


This is Now

by Moonyeyedwalrus



Series: Kick in the Head [3]
Category: B.A.P
Genre: Drama, Friendship, Humor, M/M, OT6, Romance, banghim bros, forgiveness (can you imaaaagine), himup - Freeform, i mean hopefully, jonglo bros, really every brotp in this group, that's a hamilton reference, your mileage my vary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:18:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 95,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8130163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonyeyedwalrus/pseuds/Moonyeyedwalrus
Summary: Wherein Himchan and Jongup learn whether two years and one little lie are enough to keep them apart for good.





	1. Chapter 1

It was just another Thursday.

It was just another Thursday, except it wasn't.

Kyung's snores woke Himchan, their rumble filtering through his sleep in the early morning hours as they had so many times over the past two years. He threw a pillow in the other man's face, just like he always did. Kyung let out a muffled curse, just like  _he_ always did.

But the light was all wrong. 

It _was_ light, for starters; Himchan couldn't remember the last time he hadn't been awake before the sun. His last furlough, probably. 

Then there was the sound, or lack thereof. The steady hum of an air conditioning unit had replaced the usual grunts and snores of the other soldiers. It had been years since he'd been in a hotel room with a single roommate. What had once been so commonplace had turned novel and strange.

He dressed in his own clothes. They felt wrong against his skin, the fit of the jeans so tight, his t-shirt so soft. He scowled at himself in the mirror and tried to adjust. Was he _standing_ strangely?

"Budge up, ugly," Kyung said sleepily, shouldering his way in front of the sink and tucking a dry toothbrush in the corner of his mouth. 

"Do I look weird?" Himchan asked. "Tell me honestly." 

The other soldier squinted at him in the mirror, his expression unimpressed. But then, unimpressed was Lee Kyung's default setting, so that didn't mean much. 

"Who gives a fuck?" he suggested, tossing through the basket of hotel amenities on the counter. "Tell me they forgot the fucking toothpaste..."

"I feel like a--a dad playing dress-up in his _kid's_ clothes," Himchan realized. It was his hair; it was still cut with literal military precision, and while this had looked fine next to his uniform, he looked stuffy and strange in his civilian clothes. 

Kyung had located the tiny tube of toothpaste and somehow managed to glob half of it onto the counter on its way to his toothbrush. Himchan rolled his eyes and scooped up the mess with a tissue.

"Remind me how you were the best shot in our unit?" he said. 

"Eyes like a hawk," Kyung said proudly, widening his already rather bulging eyes at Himchan in the mirror. 

They were a mismatched pair: the former idol, still handsome despite his current sartorial woes, and the wiry foulmouth beside him. Kyung's presence had been such a constant the past two years that now Himchan couldn't imagine going without his smaller, angrier shadow. 

Soon, he wouldn't _have_ to imagine it.

"What time's your flight?" he asked. They had stayed the night in a hotel outside the base so they could have one big night of drinking with the others before they all scattered to their various homes across Korea. Himchan had found he wasn't in much of a hurry to leave, anyway.

"Got two hours," Kyung said around a mouthful of toothpaste. 

"You should go," Himchan said, stepping away from the sink to let him spit. "You don't want to be late to see the kids."

He meant Kyung's younger brothers and sister, who he had raised on his own since he was a teenager. It was this fact that had helped the two soldiers bond when, on the surface, they had absolutely nothing in common. Despite his apparent nihilism, Kyung would do anything for his dongsaengs, just as Himchan would do anything for his. 

"Don't fret, Sergeant," Kyung said, pinching his cheek almost hard enough to bruise. Himchan kicked him away. 

"Remember when you had to show me respect?" he said, swiping at his face. 

"Like it was _literally_ yesterday. Sure you don't wanna come with?" Kyung changed the subject with his usual lack of ceremony. He had asked Himchan, in his rude and rather roundabout way, to come back with him to Busan when they got out. "Kids'd love to see you."

Himchan had spent his longest furlough with the Lees rather than return to Seoul. B.A.P was elsewhere on tour, and Himchan couldn't face the thought of staying with his parents. Busan had been the perfect solution.  He swam every day, played duets on the piano with Kyung's brother Kyungok, drank too much with Kyung.

Once, he gave in and went online, looked at Jongup's twitter account. 

The younger man still didn't use it much, but he posted the occasional selca. That first glimpse of his face after so many months almost stopped Himchan's heart. He'd logged off quickly and gone swimming until Kyung practically dragged him out of the water.

"I'll visit soon," he promised now. "My noona'll kill me if I wait any longer to meet the baby."

Hana and Sanghun had eloped while he was gone. At least he hadn't missed a wedding; Hana hadn't wanted a fuss, of course. If this had broken their mother's heart, Hana had quickly made up for it with the announcement of her pregnancy a few months later. Himchan had run out of furlough by the time she gave birth, so he hadn't yet met his niece. This much, at least, he was looking forward to. 

"Ah, little Sangmi," Kyung cooed. "If she's as cute as her picture you ought to steal that kid and bring her to Busan with you; Kyeung-eun'll lose her shit."

"You mean you'll lose yours," Himchan snorted. 

"I love babies," Kyung sighed. "She'll be wasted on you. So you gonna see your boys after or what?"

Himchan stiffened slightly, then began to busy himself with making the bed. Yes, the hotel staff would wash the sheets, but habits died hard.

"Probably hook up with Bbang at some point," he said carelessly, though he felt anything but. The impossible urge to run straight back to his friends and pick up where they'd left off warred with the cowardly desire to hide from the lot of them forever. 

They'd been in touch, some, mostly in the form of postcards from Yongguk. They were usually short, simple messages keeping him abreast of how the dongsaengs were doing, updates about music shows and performances, albums and interviews. Every now and again one of the others would add a quick note at the bottom. 

The last postcard had contained a new address: Yongguk's apartment. He'd moved out in the last year, which Himchan took to be a good sign. Yongguk would never have left the others if they wouldn't be all right without him. 

"At some point," Kyung repeated, throwing himself onto the bed and mussing the sheets Himchan was smoothing so carefully. 

"After I see Hana," he said with a shrug, ignoring his friend's attempts to get a rise out of him. 

"Uh huh."

Kyung didn't know about Jongup, didn't know the truth behind Himchan's enlistment, because Himchan had never told him. There was no earthly way for him to know anything that had happened in that year.

And yet. Sometimes Himchan thought he saw understanding swimming in those dark eyes. Kyung had a way of peeling back the outer layer of people and seeing the truth.

Himchan couldn't bring himself to say anything, though he missed Jongup so much it was sometimes hard to breathe. He didn't know if Kyung truly suspected there was more to his history than he'd let on, but he didn't care to find out. He'd lost enough people.

"Time to go," he said.

*

He had never been to Hana's house before. It was small, crowded in a long row of identical units. His sister would never want to leave the city; she liked to be where things were _happening_. 

Himchan paid the cab driver and made his way up the short front walk, slick with damp from a recent rain. He knocked and waited, looking around, trying to orient himself. He was back. He was home. 

_What's home to_ you? a familiar, small cold voice asked. He supposed he didn't really have one. He wouldn't count his parents' house as home; they had barely spoken since he'd enlisted, just a few stilted letters, so much left unsaid. The dorm had been his real home, and he could never go back. Seoul itself was the closest he had.

The door opened and Hana was there. She still had the ability to make sweatpants and a t-shirt look dignified enough for an office building.  

They looked at each other across the threshold for a moment. 

"Hi, noona," Himchan said. 

"You're late," Hana said, but then she had her arms around him and was hugging him so tightly he almost couldn't breathe. He returned the embrace, relaxing into her. There was more to her than there used to be; leftover pregnancy weight perhaps, and he found himself glad of it. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been _touched_ \--the odd jab or punch from Kyung or one of the others didn't count. His sister was solid in his arms. This, maybe, was home.

When they released each other, Hana's eyes looked brighter than usual. She was laughing. "Come in, anyway," she said, stepping back.

Sanghun was in the living room, on the floor with his daughter. Sangmi was on her belly on the carpet and looked around, wide-eyed, when Himchan and her mother came in. 

Himchan waved to Sanghun but could barely take his eyes off the baby. He lay on the carpet in front of her so they were eye-to-eye. 

"Sangmi, meet your samchon, Himchan," Hana said, as formally as if she were introducing two new coworkers. He ignored her and waved to Sangmi, keeping his movements slow enough for her to follow. Her chin bobbed as she watched his hand, and then she reached out for it. He let her wrap a tiny hand around his finger.

"She's so _little_ ," he marveled.

"You should've seen her when she first came out," Sanghun chortled. "We thought we were going to break her."

"Nooo, you're too strong for that, aren't you?" Himchan cooed to his niece, already enchanted.

"Channie, are we going to have to bring you your dinner on the floor?" Hana asked dryly. 

This seemed like a good idea to Himchan, but it turned out babies could be moved, and at some point he found himself in an actual chair with Sangmi in his lap. She kept twisting around clumsily to look up at him, kept waving her tiny fists in his face. He found himself understanding Kyung's whole baby thing.

He was finally feeling relaxed, less Sergeant Kim and more Himchan, when there came a knock at the door. 

"I'll get it," Hana said quickly, giving Himchan an undeniably shifty look. His heart sank. 

"You didn't," he said. 

"What?" she asked, all faux innocence.

"Tell me you didn't tell them I'd be here." Himchan wasn't ready to see their parents yet; he needed time to think of what to say. 

"Don't be so stupid," Hana said. She made for the door. Himchan clutched Sangmi a little tighter until she gurgled in protest. 

"Just remember you're on _my_ side," he muttered to her. 

Hana was back a moment later and Himchan looked up, preparing his best blandly pleasant expression. But it wasn't his parents behind Hana.

It was Yongguk.

The rapper's hands were pulled into too-long shirt sleeves and he was looking a bit bashful until his eyes found Himchan. 

The two of them stared at each other for a beat, taking in the changes two years had wrought: different haircut, new tattoo peeking out of the hole in his jeans, and didn't Yongguk used to be _taller_? Then the rapper's face cracked into that gummy grin of his and Himchan found himself smiling helplessly back.

"Hi," Yongguk said. "Um. Nice baby."

Himchan remembered his armful of adorable, which he passed off to Hana, and then he rose, and he and Yongguk were still grinning at each other, and then Yongguk hit him lightly on the shoulder and Himchan hit him back, and then they were giggling--Yongguk's wheezy laugh nearly sending Himchan into hysterics, God he'd missed that sound--and then, finally, they were hugging. Yongguk was still too skinny in his oversized clothes, his hair was longer than Himchan could remember it being in years--the better to hide behind, probably--but that laugh and grin were Bang Yongguk all over. 

"It's good to see you," Himchan said, all cool and understatement-y, when they parted. 

Yongguk clutched his hands to his heart.

"Can I play with the baby?" he asked.

*

There was a heart-explodingly cute baby, then there was wine and noodles ("All we eat anymore is noodles," Hana explained wearily), then Yongguk and Himchan took a half-empty bottle to the deck out back. The passed it back and forth in silence for a time.

It was new, this silence. Himchan had always rushed to fill them. He was different, Yongguk saw. He was self-contained in a way he hadn't been before; in the past he had always spilled across boundaries unthinkingly, arms around the dongsaengs, hands playing idly with hair or with loose threads on the nearest knee. After the initial hug, he hadn't touched Yongguk once, nor his sister. It could have been that he got his fix with Sangmi, who he insisted on holding during dinner so his sister could eat, but Yongguk thought there was more to it than that. 

Himchan snorted suddenly, breaking the quiet. Yongguk gave him a questioning look. 

" _Nice baby_ ," Himchan said, mimicking Yongguk's voice. They both laughed again.

"I panicked," Yongguk said. "Also, she's a really nice...baby..."

Himchan snickered. "Don't talk crazy. She's the best baby in the history of the world."

"Right, that's what I meant."

They sat together silently for another minute, then Himchan asked about the apartment.

"It's...quiet," Yongguk said. 

"Good or bad quiet?"

"Depends on the day."

Himchan nodded. He was studying him. Yongguk had almost forgotten how directly Himchan had always looked at him. None of the others quite dared; he felt their observation as a prickle down the back of his neck, the subtle placement of a cup of tea or plate of food.

He studied Himchan back until his friend grew self-conscious. _That_ was new, too.

"I look old," he said, squirming. He patted his pockets until he came up with a pack of cigarettes and a battered silver lighter. This was old and new at once; Yongguk and Himchan had both smoked before the lawsuit but had given it up after the health scares began to pile up.

Yongguk waved away the pack Himchan proffered. He took another swig of wine instead, then squinted at him, tried to see _old_. He'd sharpened around the edges a bit--constant drills and army food would do that to a guy. Yongguk had seen the same from his friends who had enlisted before. The haircut made him severe until he smiled, and then he was just--Himchan. Warm and known and _here_ , finally. 

"Yeah," he agreed finally. "Ancient."

"Hmph." Himchan pursed his lips. 

"So, how was it?" Yongguk asked. Dinner conversation had centered more around the baby, plus Hana and Sanghun's work. Safe topics, good for all ages. But he was almost unbearably curious. This Himchan wasn't quite the man who had left. 

"Regimented," Himchan replied after a pause. "Like our trainee days, just with less...dancing..."

Yongguk snorted. "But I mean, was it awful?" he pressed. Himchan had written him a few times, breezy letters light on actual details, just complaining about the food or the amount of pushups he'd been forced to do that day. 

There was sometimes something scratched out in the middle; once Yongguk had been able to make out Jongup's name among the chickenscratch. 

"Not _awful_ ," Himchan said after a pause. "I mean. I'm in the best shape of my life now. I have abs, look!" He lifted his shirt and Yongguk suppressed a laugh, peering at his friend's stomach. 

"...Oh, yes," he said vaguely. Himchan frowned down at himself.

"They were there this morning," he muttered. He lowered his shirt. "Anyway. I'm great at making a bed now, so there's that. And sleeping in a room with lots of other men--but then, I had that one already."

"Was there any--" Yongguk broke off, unsure how to phrase the question. When he'd thought of Himchan in the army these past two years, it wasn't the work that worried him. Himchan could work hard. What had worried Yongguk was the thought of him going through it all alone--alone, and sad. 

Jongup's name, crossed out...

Himchan waited for him to continue. 

"Did you make friends at all?" Yongguk said finally. Himchan smiled a little. 

"Ah. Yeah, um. I guess so," he said. "This guy Kyung, mostly. Couple others. It's kind of unavoidable when you're all crammed into the same space for a few years; you either make friends or enemies. I had a few of each."

Yongguk tried to picture Himchan with enemies and couldn't do it. Himchan had always been able to charm anyone. 

"So, when are you going to play me what you've been working on?" Himchan's tone was light as he changed the subject.

"I didn't know if you'd want to hear it," Yongguk said.

His friend didn't rush to reassure him. He put the now-empty wine bottle on the ground and spun it between his feet.

"Himchan," Yongguk said quietly. 

His friend sighed, put his chin on his knees. 

"How is he?" he asked without looking at him. 

Yongguk had been waiting for the question. Himchan must have obtained superhuman powers of restraint in the army not to have asked before. He knew the dancer couldn't have been far from his thoughts. He tried to gauge whether his friend was looking for an honest answer or a reassuring one.

He thought of Jongup as he'd been in the studio that afternoon: focused but good-humored, oblivious to the text Yongguk received from Hana over lunch, asking him to come to dinner and welcome his best friend home. 

"He's good," he answered carefully. "He's been working so hard, Channie, you'd be proud of him."

"Of course." Himchan had turned to him, seemingly without meaning to. "Has he been writing?"

Yongguk hesitated. "Not...as much," he hedged. Himchan's face fell. "He's really been focusing more on choreography," Yongguk said quickly. "And he's been keeping up with the vocal practice, it's insane how much he fits in a day."

"Wonder where he gets that from," Himchan said, but his face was still worried. Yongguk pleaded silently for him not to press. He was no good at hiding things from Himchan. If he kept asking about Jongup's writing, he'd see the truth before Yongguk could hide it. 

Jongup had never actually spoken about it to Yongguk, but he didn't have to. The rapper knew the terror of the blank page when the words threatening to spill onto it contained the very things you were running from. It had taken him years of practice to learn how not to let them cut him on the way out. Himchan had helped, as had all the members. Yongguk had wanted to help Jongup but at first he'd been so deep in his own grief that nothing would come out. By the time the worst of the sting of loss had faded, Jongup had faded too, back into the dance studio, where he quite literally threw himself into his work. It had seemed to restore him to something close to his old self, and so Yongguk hadn't pushed him on the writing. Whatever could bring a smile back to Moon Jongup's face must be the best thing for him.

He didn't want to say this to Himchan, though. Any questions he might have had about his best friend's feelings were answered by the longing on his face now. Yongguk found he wasn't terribly surprised. 

"So," he said. "You still..." 

Himchan turned a sharp glare on him. "Of course I still," he said. "It's not like--turning off a faucet, Bbang."

"People move on," Yongguk said gently. 

"Did he?" Himchan looked at his hands as he asked the question, but after a moment's silence, he met the rapper's eyes again squarely. "It's fine if he has," he said. "As long as he's happy."

Yongguk nodded. They were quiet for a minute as he tried to think how to answer. Finally, Himchan huffed.

"Well?"

"What?"

"Did he--has he moved on? Is he--Is there anyone--?"

Yongguk laughed a little at his friend's impatience, so familiar. 

"Ask _him_ that," he advised. 

Himchan took a quick drag of his cigarette. The smoke burned Yongguk's nose pleasantly. 

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Himchan said. "I mean, does he even want to see me? I don't want to just--turn up in his life and mess with his head."

"Do _you_ want to see _him_?" Yongguk asked. He thought he knew the answer, but it seemed only fair to ask.

Himchan didn't answer right away. He stubbed his cigarette out on the ground, writing his name with the ash. 

"Does it matter?" he said finally. 

"Pretty sure it matters to Jongup," Yongguk said. Himchan sighed. 

"Of course I want to see him," he said. "More than--" He shook his head. "Of course I want to see him," he repeated softly. "I want to see all of them. I've missed you guys, you know?"

For a second, the sorrow was back, thick in the back of Yongguk's throat. Two _years_ lost. He pushed it away. 

"Yeah," he said. "Us too."

"I'm sorry I didn't write more."

"That's okay. We knew you were busy."

"Busy, sure, but...mostly just didn't know what to say," Himchan admitted. "So much happened; where do you even start?"

Good question. Yongguk thought for a moment. "Start with dinner," he said. "At my place; it can be just the six of us. I'll cook."

Himchan looked faintly alarmed. "You'll...?"

"There's a grill, we can have meat," Yongguk said. The five of them had done it when he first got the apartment; there was just room enough on his small patio for a grill and table. "We're--leaving, soon? We're going to Japan, day after tomorrow, so tomorrow night would be good, if you can come."

"I think I have room in my calendar," Himchan said dryly. "If you're sure." 

"Of course," Yongguk said. "It'll be fun."

*

***** Then *****

 

"It'll be fun!" Daehyun said brightly. Jongup just blinked at him a few times, and the vocalist had to fight the urge to shake him. Instead, he turned to Yongguk. "Doesn't it sound great, hyung?" he pressed. The rapper's eyes flickered over to Jongup.

"If he doesn't want to..." he said.

Daehyun was going to kill him. He was going to kill Yongguk, and then he was going to kill Jongup. That was the best solution for everyone. B.A.P could be a three-person group until Himchan got home. 

Of course, thinking of Himchan brought to mind certain promises Daehyun had made. He reached for patience.

"It's a dance competition, Jonguppie," he tried again. "You get total control over the choreography, or you and Junhongie can collaborate again! How is that not fun?"

Jongup went for broke and managed a shrug. "I guess," he said. 

"And you can pick the music! Or write something new, even, or hyung can write you something, you have a few months before--"

"I said okay," Jongup said, sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed. He'd been there all day. Again. Daehyun wasn't sure when the dancer had last changed out of his pajamas. They really needed to get back to promotions soon. "You can stop pushing, hyung, I'll do it."

Jongup didn't sound like Jongup. He sounded weary, and took no pains to hide the fact that he was only agreeing to get Daehyun off his back. 

Well, fine. Daehyun would take it.

"Great!" he said heartily. He glanced at Yongguk again. The rapper was looking at something on his phone. Daehyun turned resolutely away. "I can drive you to the studio if you, ah, want to shower first..."

"Yeah." Jongup's tone was flat. He grabbed his towel off the end of the bed on his way out the door. Daehyun waited until he heard the bathroom door shut before rounding on Yongguk.

"Very helpful, thanks hyung," he said. Yongguk ceased his scrolling on his phone and let his eyes flicker up to meet Daehyun's.

"Excuse me?" he said mildly. Once, Daehyun would have been cowed by the question, and the anger simmering under the surface. But no more. 

Or at least, not as much.

"Just--it'd be nice if I had some help trying to cheer him up, that's all," he said, forcing himself to meet the rapper's gaze. He tried to remember how Himchan had been with him. Himchan had always known best how to handle Yongguk's moods, and for a minute a huge wave of _missing_ washed over Daehyun again. No wonder Jongup still had trouble getting out of bed; none of them were immune to the pain of Himchan's absence.

But dammit, that was kind of the point. Anger crashed over his longing, and a voice that sounded suspiciously like Himchan's advised him to _go with it_.

"This doesn't just suck for you and Jonguppie," Daehyun went on. "You aren't the only two left in the group."

Yongguk's lips thinned. "I know that," he said. "But Jonguppie needs time; he doesn't need you pushing him."

Daehyun disagreed. "It's been a month," he said. "I'm not saying he should be over it, but I don't see how it's helping to leave him miserable in bed all the time. We're supposed to have a comeback in a few months and half of us can barely leave the dorm."

"You think I care about that right now?" Yongguk snapped. 

"If you don't care about it, we're all fucked," Daehyun said bluntly. "And Himchannie hyung would kick your ass, by the way." He cast about a bit desperately. Yongguk's words had frightened him worse than he cared to admit. There was no B.A.P without Bang Yongguk.

_Channie, where are you when we need you?_

"It's not fair to Junhong!" he came up with finally. 

Yongguk stared at him for a minute. Every cell in the vocalist's being was urging him to apologize, to ask for forgiveness. What made him so sure he was right, anyway? It had only been a month; who was he to say how long Yongguk and Jongup could be miserable and non-functioning? His hyung narrowed his eyes at him.

"Himchan told you to say that, didn't he," he said. His voice had lost its fury and was just rueful. 

"What?"

"About Junhong." Yongguk shook his head. "Channie used to use him against me all the time; he thought he was being so crafty." He shook his head. 

"He--may have given me some tips, yeah," Daehyun admitted. Something loosened in his guts; he didn't think Yongguk wanted to fight. The rapper sagged against the bed. He and Jongup were sharing a room. It had seemed like a good idea at first; the two in the worst throes of grief could anchor each other. 

Or maybe just pull each other down.

"You're right," Yongguk said. "I'm--you're right. I haven't been handling this very well."

Daehyun went to sit beside him, nudging him with his shoulder. "It's only been a month," he offered, relieved and generous now that the other had relented. 

"Still." Yongguk pulled one of his Tiggers into his lap, squeezing it reflexively. "I haven't really been fair to you. Sorry, Daehyunnie."

"That's okay." Forgiveness had always come easily to Daehyun. "I really miss him too, you know," he said. Yongguk nodded. 

All month they'd been dancing around the subject, guilt crowding in on Daehyun because he wasn't doing as he'd promised; he wasn't being the hyung. Trouble was, neither was Yongguk. Daehyun didn't blame him. He tried to imagine how he'd feel if Youngjae left the group suddenly. 

But that way lay madness.

"What do we do?" Yongguk asked. Asked Daehyun, like he knew anything. The vocalist sat up a little straighter. 

"We get everyone back to the studio," he said. They'd been avoiding it all month; TS was back to being the enemy, if they'd ever even stopped. "Just warm-up stuff for a couple hours. Then...then we get noodles." He'd promised Himchan to make Yongguk eat, after all.

The leader smiled for the first time. "Noodles," he repeated. He nodded. "Okay."

It was a start.

 

*

***  **Now *****

 

Youngjae buzzed Yongguk into the dorm. Technically he still had a key, but he thought it important to remind the others that he didn't live here anymore. 

He could do with the reminding himself, sometimes. 

The younger man was in the common room when he  entered the apartment, sprawled out on the couch in his pajamas, sheet mask obscuring his features. 

"What's up, hyung?" 

"Hi." Yongguk paused next to the couch. "What are you watching?"

"That movie from last year about the haunted house? And the family moves in and their son gets possessed? Like no one saw _that_ coming."

"Ah." That explained why the others weren't here; Junhong and Daehyun refused categorically to watch scary movies. "Where is everybody?"

"Jonguppie's in the shower, other two're...I dunno. Hiding out in Dae's room, maybe," Youngjae said. He squinted at the rapper. "You okay? You look peaked."

"I look _peaked_?" Yongguk repeated, amused. 

Youngjae nodded. "Wan," he supplied. "Poorly. Um. Bilious?"

"Huh. I don't _feel_ bilious." 

"That one's kind of a stretch, as far as synonyms go. But really--you look a little...something?"

Yongguk nodded. "I'm gonna grab the others."

Daehyun was alone in his room with his laptop and an enormous pair of headphones. Yongguk paused in the doorway, watching him until the singer noticed his presence with a start and tugged his headphones down around his neck. 

"Hey," he said. "I didn't know you were coming over." He sounded pleased. They were always pleased when Yongguk came by the dorm now, and it never failed to please him right back, all the more because he could see he wasn't needed, only wanted. 

"I need to talk to you--all of you," Yongguk said. He glanced behind him, down the hall, saw Junhong's door was cracked open. He stepped into Daehyun's room. 

"What's wrong?" Daehyun asked. This hair-trigger worry had never left any of them, this fearful response to _we have to talk_. They all knew how fast the walls could be brought down around them. 

"Himchan's home." Yongguk didn't dance around the topic. 

Daehyun straightened, his eyes widened. "You saw him?"

"At Hana's just now."

"Without us? How is he? Is he--how are _you_?" Daehyun raced through questions. Yongguk smiled a little, stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the other bed. 

"I'm--okay. _He's_ okay. I don't know. He's _Himchan_."

"I knew his service must be almost up but I guess I lost track of time," Daehyun said. "Wait, does he have a phone? Can we call him right now?" Yongguk could see the eagerness in his face, and it made him glad. At least one of them would be as happy to have Himchan home as he was. 

"I invited him to dinner at mine tomorrow night," he said. "I was hoping you'd all come."

"Of course we will, are you cr--" Daehyun broke off. "Does Jonguppie know yet?"

"Still in the shower," Yongguk said. "I didn't tell the others yet, I just--wanted to get your take on it."

Daehyun nodded seriously. "I'm not sure _what_ he'll do, you know? He never talks about it. I have to think he'll be glad to see him but--it'll be hard on him anyway. And you know Youngjae still has all his conspiracy theories about the whole thing and he's convinced there was something else going on the whole time--"

Yongguk tried not to look too obviously guilty. He had come to depend on Daehyun very deeply in the past two years, had seen how hard the younger man worked to fill the void Himchan had left. He'd become a better hyung, almost as much a partner to Yongguk has Himchan had been. But the rapper had never told Daehyun Himchan's true reason for giving the reporter the information about the drugs. Protecting Jongup had been his final act upon leaving, and Yongguk wouldn't undo it without his permission. 

But while the dongsaengs were younger, not one of them was stupid. Yongguk had watched more than one of them skate close to the truth in the past two years. Youngjae in particular hadn't been able to let it go. 

_It doesn't make_ sense _,_ he kept ranting to Yongguk one night, pacing the kitchen. _The album was doing so great, he was writing music again, he and Jongup were so happy--no_ way _he puts his name on that story and gives it all up. Do you think he thought he was off the record?_

Yongguk could only shrug.

He suspected Jongup knew it was every bit as wrong as Youngjae did, but the dancer's coping strategy had been to retreat from the entire topic. He didn't talk about Himchan, and studiously avoided the barrage of articles about him that came out just after _the_ article, and his subsequent departure.

Daehyun was still talking. 

"Junnie, I don't know, I think he still feels guilty that he didn't say a real goodbye, but I guarantee they'll be back to normal in five seconds if Himchan just _smiles_ at hi--"

"What?"

They both jumped and turned to find Jongup in the doorway, towel wrapped around his waist.

"What?" Daehyun said back.

"What about Himchan?" Jongup said. He kept his voice and expression tightly controlled so Yongguk couldn't be sure what he felt. 

"He--"

"Does this mean the shower's fr--oh, hey hyung." Junhong, joining the fray at the door, a towel slung across his bare shoulders. "What's up?"

"Are we all just hanging out in here, then?" Youngjae asked, shouldering his way past the dancers and into the room. He hopped onto the spare bed--his bed? Yongguk wasn't quite sure how sleeping arrangements had settled without him; he had a hunch things had gone rather anarchic with only four boys and three bedrooms remaining--and looked around expectantly. He'd taken off his sheet mask and his skin was shiny and wet-looking.

"What _about_ Himchan?" Jongup repeated, a bit sharper now. The other two perked up.

"What?"

"What's going on?"

"Everybody shut up and let Yongguk hyung talk!" Daehyun bellowed. 

They shut up, but not before Youngjae threw a pillow at him. 

Yongguk sighed and looked at Jongup, who looked like his skin was just barely managing to hold him together. "Himchan's back," he said. The dancer nodded as if he'd expected as much. Yongguk wondered if he'd had an eye on the calendar lately. 

"I saw him," he continued, to the group at large. "He's staying with Hana."

The questions came fast from Junhong and Youngjae, their words tripping over each other: _How is he_ and _How does he look_ and _Wait, where's noona living now_ and, of course, _When do_ we _get to see him?_

Yongguk filled them in as quickly as he could, finishing with the following night's dinner plans. 

"If everyone wants to," he added.

"What the hell, hyung, of course we all want--well--" Youngjae broke off and glanced at Jongup. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. He met Youngjae's uncertain gaze.

"Of course we'll all go," he agreed evenly. "I'm going to bed."

He retreated down the hall, leaving the other four in silence. 

"Should I--?" Daehyun made to get off his bed, but Yongguk shook his head. 

"I'll go."

Jongup was shimmying into a pair of sweats when Yongguk pushed his way past the half-closed door.

"I'm fine, hyung." Jongup didn't turn around, kept hunting for a t-shirt amid the mess on his bed.

"Are you sure?" Yongguk said.

"Yes," Jongup said, too quickly. "How is he, anyway?" He seemed to be aiming for careless, but his tone didn't quite get there.

"Funny; he asked the same about you," Yongguk told him. Jongup's hands stilled for less than half a beat, more a stutter than anything else, but Yongguk saw it. 

"Yeah?" He still didn't turn around. Finally unearthed a t-shirt from his tangle of blankets, gave it a cursory sniff, slipped it over his head. 

"Yeah. He's not sure you'd really want to see him."

Jongup turned then. "I do," he said. "It's fine, honestly. It's been two years, hyung, I'm good." And he smiled. 

Yongguk knew the difference between Jongup's true smile and his false one. He let this knowing show on his face, and saw that Jongup saw it. 

"Just make sure you're packed before tomorrow night," was all he said. 


	2. Chapter 2

Jongup had nothing to wear.

This was an unusual problem for the dancer, as he had the wardrobes of two other people to choose from in addition to his own--three, if he wanted to venture into Junhong's part of the closet and go the hilariously oversized route, which he often did. 

The clothes thing was a problem, one he didn't particularly want to admit. To admit it was to admit he cared about how he would look the first time he saw Himchan in two years. To admit he cared about this was to question _why_ \--he was, after all, over it. 

Totally.

Something hit him in the back of the head and slithered down his back to pool at his feet: a jacket. 

"Ow," he said belatedly, registering the sting where the zipper had whipped him. 

"Sorry, I mistook you for a coat rack," Youngjae said from the doorway. "Because of how you were standing totally still in the middle of the closet for, like, ten minutes." He glanced over his shoulder. "I _told_ you he was in here!" he called to someone. Jongup hooked the jacket with his foot and flicked it up at his friend just as Daehyun joined him in the doorway. 

"What?" he complained. "I must have passed by like three times!"

"Time to get you some glasses that aren't just for show," Youngjae said. He glanced back at Jongup and his expression was softer than he'd expected. "We have to leave in like an hour," he reminded him. 

"I'm almost ready," Jongup said automatically. Youngjae nodded. 

"I can see that. You just need to accessorize--a good belt, some of Junhong's snazzy socks, maybe-- _maybe_ , and no pressure or anything--maybe some actual clothes..."

"Were you standing there when I was getting dressed earlier?" Daehyun interrupted. Jongup widened his eyes. 

"You were _right_ next to me."

"Don't mess with me, Jonguppie--you're messing with me, right?" He turned to Youngjae for aid. "He's messing with me, right?"

"Glasses," Youngjae repeated. "Thick ones. Or maybe that surgery where they drill right into your eyeba--"

"That's not a thing!" Daehyun bellowed, covering his face and taking a step back. He ran into Junhong as the maknae was coming in, and yelped. "Where did _you_ come from?"

Junhong blinked down at him. "The...hallway..."

"Don't mind him; his vision's based on movement," Jongup said. 

"Like a velociraptor," Youngjae put in.

"T-Rex," the dancers corrected in unison. Youngjae blinked.

"T-Rex? What do the velociraptors do, then?"

"Eat you alive, mostly," Junhong said. 

"Wouldn't they pop?" Daehyun asked. Junhong frowned.

"The velociraptors?"

"The _eyes_ ; you can't just _drill into--"_  

"Whatever, they use a laser or something, I had a friend who got it and he can see perfectly now," Youngjae said. "The important thing is, _we_ all stopped talking about that like an hour ago."

"We've moved onto dinosaur trivia, which Youngjae knows as much about as you do eye surgery," Junhong added. Youngjae tried to smack the back of his head. 

"Aw," Junhong said supportively, leaning down to pet his hair.

Daehyun raised his hand. "We have to leave in like five minutes now, because that's how long this conversation has taken," he said.

"I think we've made real progress," Youngjae said. Daehyun scowled.

"In what way have we made progress?"

"I'm coming around on Youngjae hyung's clothes idea," Jongup said.

"See?"

Daehyun pinched the bridge of his nose. "Junhong-ah, work your magic on Jonguppie, will you?" he said, removing the maknae's hand from Youngjae's head. 

Junhong gave him a dubious look. "I have a clothing-related magic?" he muttered, coming over to Jongup and turning him around so they were both facing the options. He rested his chin on top of Jongup's head. 

"Better than no magic," Jongup said. 

"Hmph. What's your magic power, hyung?"

"I make Babyz' hearts melt," Daehyun said. The dancers turned as a single, two-headed figure to roll their eyes at him. 

"I think he was asking me," Jongup said. "And apparently I have the power of invisibility."

"Very funny," Daehyun said. He got a hold of Jongup's wrist and tugged him to the door. "You, c'mere. You two, find him something to wear."

"What are we--?" Jongup said as Daehyun pushed him into his room and shut the door behind them. He turned to study the dancer, who watched him, nonplussed.

"Listen, I know we're all joking around and this is fun and everything, but seriously you don't have to go if you don't want to," his hyung told him.

"I know that."

"I'm saying, if you feel like seeing him will make you--I don't know, want to hit things? Or cry or whatever? It's totally fine for you to not go. I'll hang out with you if you don't mind the company."

Jongup tilted his head. He knew how much Daehyun was looking forward to seeing Himchan. He was touched that he would willingly give it up to hang out with him, though he'd never ask him to do it. 

"I don't think I'm going to hit anything," he said. "Or cry."

"But I mean, just--are you okay?" Daehyun asked. 

He was a somewhat _clumsier_ hyung than Himchan had been; the latter's questioning was always so matter-of-fact there could be no room for embarrassment. But Daehyun never left any doubt that he was _there_ , and always willing to listen (at least, until his natural inclination to interrupt got the better of him). 

Jongup didn't quite know how to answer the question. 

"I think so," he said. "It's been two years, so."  

Plenty of time to get over it. In the past six months especially he'd been working at it. He'd even dated a little. 

Well, twice. Two girls, once each, just to see. The one had been funny. The other had been nice. He supposed a single date wasn't enough time to develop feelings so his complete lack of giving-a-shit was to be expected. Daehyun and Youngjae had assured him it was good progress nonetheless. According to them, he just needed to rebound and he'd be fine. He wasn't 100% sure whether his dates qualified, but thankfully they'd been so busy with schedules that the singers hadn't bugged him about it too much. 

Daehyun nodded. 

"Two years is a long time," he said. "But also, you know. It's not a one-size-fits-all thing. It's cool if you still...you know. Feel stuff. I mean, it's normal. Because you two weren't really normal. I mean, in a good way, though. Like--"

"Hyung?" Jongup interrupted. Daehyun crinkled his nose.

"Stop talking?" he guessed.

"Really any time now," Jongup agreed. "But thanks. Really." 

Junhong and Youngjae chose that moment to bustle in, arms piled high with clothes. Daehyun gave them an exasperated look. 

"How is this narrowing it down?" he asked.

"We brought one look for every mood," Youngjae explained. "Jongup-ah, are you feeling casual or like dandy-sexy...?" He held up a sweatshirt and a button-down that were apparently meant to represent these options.

Normally, Jongup liked fashion; it was such a simple way to choose who you wanted to be each day. But at the moment, all his brain was telling him was SHIRTS.

"Or not," Junhong said, reading his expression. "Hyung, how do you feel about blue?"

*

They got out the door somehow and made it the two subway stops to Yongguk's building. The four crowded into the elevator and Jongup pretended not to notice his friends pretending not to shoot him tiny glances every three seconds.

"Is it weird I'm nervous?" Daehyun broke the silence with a laugh. "Like I keep thinking he'll seem so grown-up now..."

"It's Himchan, how grown-up could he be?" Youngjae countered, but Jongup had noticed he had changed out of his hoodie and jeans into a more polished outfit just before they left the dorm.

The elevator's _ding_ signaled their release.

"I guess we'll find out," Jongup said.

*

Yongguk's apartment was, Jongup thought, the perfect embodiment of the rapper himself. The walls were high and white and mostly bare, save for a few black and white photographs he'd framed. 

The whole place was sparse and minimalist, but the furniture he did have was comfortable and welcoming--Jongup had spent a few nights on the couch after a dinner had gone too late or he'd had a bit too much soju.

The main feature of the apartment was the balcony; small as it was, it gave a great view of the Seoul skyline, and Jongup was pretty sure it was where Yongguk spent most of his time when he was home. He didn't blame him. They'd managed to fit a grill and picnic table out there and had taken to eating together at least every couple of weeks. 

The four of them filed in after Yongguk's shouted " _Enter!_ "

" _Enter_?" Youngjae repeated. "This is how you answer the door, hyung? We could have been anyone."

"And yet you still insist on being you," Daehyun said with regret, pushing Youngjae out of the way. "He _did_ buzz us in, pabo."

Yongguk appeared in the kitchen doorway with an armful of soju. He handed a green bottle to Youngjae. 

"Feeling bilious today?" he said. Youngjae snorted and accepted the drink.

"So he's not here yet?" Daehyun asked, looking around the apartment as though Himchan might be hiding in the corner. 

"He texted; he's on his way," Yongguk said. He handed Jongup a bottle and held his gaze for a beat. "Okay?" he said quietly.

Jongup had no idea. His heart was beating a bit faster than usual, but it seemed to be coming from outside of his body, like he was feeling the bass from the music playing in a passing car. His mouth was very dry; he fumbled with the bottle's top.

"Sure," he said. He got the lid off and took a long sip. "Do you need help with the grill?"

They filtered out onto the porch. It was a cool night but not yet cold. Summer, longer and hotter than usual, had stretched into Fall, and though the sun was setting earlier and earlier, the days were still unseasonably warm. Jongup set to work on the grill, prepping the coals, while Junhong slipped around the corners turning on the porch lanterns and the singers brought trays of meat out from the kitchen. 

They all knew their roles by now. Jongup worked the grill. Youngjae would throw together some sort of marinade, always a little heavier on the chiles than any of them could stand without tearing up. Yongguk would make sure to always have plenty of drinks on hand. Daehyun and Junhong would fetch things and do dishes at the end of the night, a forever-bickering pair side-by-side at the sink.

They had settled into their roles, had healed around the hole Himchan had left. Now things were about to break again.

Jongup focused on the grill, happy as always that it was the persnickety manual kind rather than neat and easy gas. He stuffed bits of crumpled paper in among glowing coals, watched them catch, the flames first rising and then shrinking down into a vibrant glowing orange.

He could do this.

His friends' conversation washed over him.

He could do this.

Inside, the buzzer rang. 

Everything froze. Then, after a few hours (or seconds; Jongup's brain seemed to have an odd relationship with time all of a sudden), Yongguk went inside to get the door. 

Himchan was downstairs. Downstairs, and now his hand would be on the door as Yongguk granted him entry to the building. He'd be waiting in front of the bank of elevators on the worn burgundy carpet in front of the mirrored wall. He'd check out his reflection, try to fix his hair nervously.

Jongup's mind couldn't stop filling in the blanks, but here he paused, stuck. The Himchan downstairs couldn't possibly look like the one in his mind. The Himchan in his memory was wet-haired, straight from the shower, in a shrugged-on t-shirt and jeans. He was, in short, the Himchan from three and a half years ago, from a particular night in a particular hotel room, when Jongup had realized the older man would be _his_ if he only asked.

He'd asked.

He heard the door open inside--except that wasn't it, exactly. It wasn't a sound that alerted him to Himchan's presence so much as the undeniable feeling that he was there. Himchan had always taken up space in a way that demanded to be noticed, and maybe Jongup was just going crazy but he would swear he could feel the moment the older man stepped into the apartment.

Jongup put the lid back on the grill. He picked up his bottle of soju. His eyes passed unseeingly across the city. He breathed.

He turned and found Junhong watching him from the doorway. The maknae held out his hand. 

"You ready?" he asked.

 

*** **Then *****

 

"Are you ready?" Junhong said. Jongup realized he must have asked a few times and forced himself to focus on his best friend. The green room was a flurry of activity, coordi and makeup noonas rushing around, sound and lighting techs passing through on their way to or from the stage. Jongup could hear the distant rumble of the crowd, could feel the bass of the current performer's music.

"Yes." Jongup felt considerably more than ready. He felt, in truth, like he was about to climb out of his skin. This wasn't uncommon for him before a performance; he always got so keyed up with adrenaline and excitement. It felt more intense this time, though. This was no normal concert; it was just _him_ , alone, competing against some of the best dancers in the industry. 

"Don't be nervous," Youngjae said, poking him on the shoulder. Jongup realized he was rocking back and forth and tried to be still. Daehyun swatted Youngjae's hand away. 

"When in the history of ever has it been helpful to tell someone _don't be nervous_?" he said, then gave Jongup an anxious look. "He is right, though, you shouldn't be."

"He's not nervous," Junhong said. 

"I'm not nervous," Jongup echoed. He knew his best friend understood; nothing compared to the feeling when you knew you were about to go onstage with nothing but your body to try to entertain thousands of people. He was ready straight through to his veins. 

"You just look a little like you're going to, you know, disintegrate," Youngjae said. Jongup was rocking again. He tried to stop. 

Manager Kang joined their group, smiling, a brightly colored bag dangling from one wrist. 

"Are you ready?" he asked Jongup.

"Please, hyung-nim, we've just been through all this," Daehyun said. 

"Where's Yongguk-hyung?" Junhong asked. 

"Last I saw he was terrorizing the sound crew," Kang said. 

"Terrorizing how, exactly?" Youngjae asked. 

"Kind of looming and glaring," Kang said. 

"Oh, that's fine," Daehyun said dismissively. Jongup knew what he meant. It was the first time anyone from the group was performing since they became five, and Yongguk would be doing everything in his power to make sure everything went smoothly. "What do you have there?" Daehyun went on, nodding to the bag their manager was holding. 

"Gifts are starting to come in for you from the fans," he told Jongup, smiling. "We're setting them aside for you, but I thought you might like one early."

"There's such a thing as tempting fate, you know," Youngjae remarked. "Are you trying to jinx him?" 

Jongup ignored him and took the bag from Kang--and promptly almost dropped it when he saw the handwriting on the card.

"What's the ma--oh," Daehyun said, following his gaze. Kang patted Jongup's shoulder gently and left the group alone. The other three crowded around him, effectively blocking Jongup from view of the rest of the room. 

"How'd he even know I was performing?" he asked no one in particular.

"I told him." His chin jerked up to meet Junhong's gaze, which looked a little, well, nervous. "I added it to the last postcard Yongguk-hyung sent."

He didn't apologize, but Jongup didn't need him to. The thought that Himchan might be out there, thinking of him right now...it was oddly comforting. 

Still, he peered inside the bag almost fearfully, then, a bit confused, pulled out its contents: a neck pillow. He had one already, of course; they all had a couple for plane rides. This one felt considerably heavier than his, though. 

"Huh," Daehyun said. Youngjae reached out and felt the weight of the pillow. 

"I've seen those," he said. "They're supposed to, like, massage you or something." Jongup and Daehyun exchanged a dubious look, then the dancer put it across his shoulders. 

He'd been fighting off disappointment, though he didn't know what on earth he'd been hoping for, but the minute he put the pillow on, he almost burst out laughing. 

"What?" Youngjae demanded, seeing his expression. Jongup just shook his head. 

The pillow was a decent approximation of the weight of Himchan's arm across his shoulders, and for the first time all day he felt himself relax a little, even as his throat went thick. 

_Oh, Himchan._

"Nothing," he managed, allowing himself a small smile. "Inside joke." 

He slid the card out of its envelope and read the message. It was short:

_Relax, Jonguppie. You'll knock em dead._

_H_

He gave the card to Junhong wordlessly and his friend tucked it away in his jacket for safekeeping. Jongup left the pillow on for now. Yongguk joined their cluster. 

"Sound system's sorted out, you should be able to actually hear the melody now," he said. "They're going to call you up in about two minutes, are you--"

"He's ready," three voices chorused. 

 

*** **Now *****

 

Jongup had seen the before and after pictures, so he knew Himchan had grown up during the lawsuit. In pictures he could see the transformation the other man had made: from gaunt to healthy, the hollows in his cheeks filling out, his shoulders broadening, his hair going back to black. In the before, he was still a boy, and in the after, he'd emerged a man. 

But Jongup hadn't noticed the changes along the way. He'd _been_ there; other than Himchan's trip to America, he'd been around. He'd taken Jongup out to dinner at least once a week, or let Jongup drag him to the latest superhero movie. They'd facetimed and texted and talked all the time, the changes in Himchan too incremental to be noticeable from week to week.

Now, though. 

He hadn't set eyes on Himchan in two years, and he could see the difference. This Himchan was broader at the shoulder, sharper in the face. He'd lost some weight in the army. And hair; Jongup had never seen it cut so short. It made him look older. Serious. 

He was still very, very handsome. 

Jongup kept breathing. 

"Himchan-hyung!" Daehyun barreled past the others to envelop Himchan in an enormous hug. Himchan snorted and hugged him back, even as the breath was knocked out of him. 

"Purple, huh?" he said as he was finally released. He touched the ends of Daehyun's freshly-dyed hair.

"I wanted something to really bring out the circles under my eyes," Daehyun said.

"Good job," Himchan replied, and the vocalist gave a gasp of mock outrage. Himchan grinned and cuffed him lightly on the chin.

Junhong stepped up next. 

"Hyung," he said, and Himchan looked up (and up) at him in wonder. 

"Are you still _growing_?" he asked incredulously. Junhong ducked his head and shuffled his feet and Jongup saw something go soft and sad in Himchan's expression.

"Seriously, let me look at you," he said, holding the maknae's shoulders and looking him over for a minute before hugging him. 

"Welcome back," Junhong said. Jongup could hear the relief in his voice. He'd been so afraid Himchan would be angry at him, as though such a thing were even possible. 

Youngjae was next. Jongup knew his friends were doing it on purpose, giving him a chance to collect himself, not to rush him into a greeting he had no clue how to make.

"And you, how is it you look the same?" Himchan asked the vocalist, looking him up and down. "I went away and got old and you're still adorable."

"You were already old," Youngjae said promptly, giving Himchan a hard, back-slappy hug that betrayed his nerves. 

Only Jongup was left. He stood apart from the others, just inside the doorway to the patio, and he and Himchan regarded each other.

The last time Jongup had touched him, he had pushed him. It hadn't been hard enough to hurt, but he wasn't so foolish as to think it hadn't done damage. He hadn't known it would be the last time. He'd been so furious, so terrified and grief-stricken, and he couldn't regret those feelings any more than he could regret loving Himchan in the first place. You couldn't control that kind of thing.

The push, though, he'd have liked to take back. 

"Jongup-ah?" Himchan's voice was hesitant, more a question than a greeting. There was only one answer Jongup knew how to give. His feet carried him to the older man and Himchan folded him in his arms immediately. 

He was more muscled than he'd been before, and Jongup could smell that he'd switched from his old shampoo, but his face still fit perfectly in the crook of his neck and his back remembered the pattern Himchan rubbed there.

The others dispersed, mumbling about drinks (Yongguk), the grill (Youngjae), and joking just a little too loudly (Daehyun and Junhong) with their customary lack of subtlety as they gave them a moment's privacy.

"Hi," Jongup mumbled into his shoulder. 

"Hi," Himchan said back. After all this time, Jongup could still hear the smile in his voice before they pulled back and he saw it on his face. It was a tentative smile, but a real one. His dark eyes scanned Jongup's face and Jongup felt his breath catch. He'd thought he remembered every square centimeter of Kim Himchan but nothing compared to seeing him up close like this. He was still perfect. 

And he still looked at Jongup like _he_ was perfect.

Jongup had to take a step back or risk falling into him completely. It was too much, this moment. He took a shuddering breath. 

"Are you all right?" Himchan's expression was concerned. Once, he would have reached for Jongup, pulled him back in, reassured himself with his fingers that the dancer was well, that he was whole. Now he stuffed his hands in his pockets and just looked. 

Jongup made himself nod. 

"You?"

Himchan nodded. "I'm happy to see you," he said. 

"And what about _me_?" Daehyun interrupted. Apparently he felt they had had enough privacy, for he draped an arm over Jongup's shoulders and passed a bottle of soju to Himchan. 

" _All_ of you," Himchan said. It seemed to take some effort for him to drag his eyes away from Jongup, and Jongup felt an unwelcome surge of hope.

_We're not doing that_ , he reminded himself. He hadn't spent the last two years getting over Himchan just to fall back into old habits now. Himchan didn't want to be with him; that was fine. Jongup held onto the hope that they might still be friends, though. Eventually.

"Jongup-ah! Grill's ready, I think," Youngjae called, poking his head in from the patio. Then Junhong was back, at Himchan's side, tugging on his arm, _Come see the view, hyung_ , and then they were all outside. It was crowded enough that Daehyun and Yongguk had to stand on the bench briefly to let Jongup through to the grill, but that was all right. 

There were six of them again.

Himchan's presence felt both heavy and light somehow; Jongup felt giddy with it, and a bit sick, though that could have been from the soju. He'd forgotten to eat lunch. 

"So, the army! What was it like?" Daehyun demanded. Jongup opened the grill and waved the smoke away, glad the wind was blowing in their favor and taking it away from the table. He glanced back to see Himchan sandwiched between Yongguk and Junhong. Yongguk had been very quiet so far, but his face was very glad as he let the others talk. It was so much like old times that for a second Jongup was sixteen again.

"Orderly?" Himchan said. Daehyun and Youngjae vetoed this as an acceptable answer with a chorus of boos and he smiled his full-on smile for the first time. Jongup turned back to the grill hurriedly. For a second, he forgot what he was supposed to do. Then he spotted the plate of meat off to the side. Right. Cooking. 

"It was--I don't know." Himchan sounded genuinely lost. 

"They made him sergeant," Yongguk rumbled. 

"Hyung!" Youngjae said reprovingly. "I can't believe you didn't lead with _that._ "

"How did you even _know_ that?" Himchan asked.

"Hana mentioned it," Yongguk said.

"Don't tell me the army made you modest, Himchannie," Daehyun said with a laugh. 

"I'm more interested in what you've all been up to," Himchan said quickly. "What's been happening?" 

If the others noted his clumsy subject change, they didn't remark on it. Jongup made a mental note to press Himchan for more details later.

Then he scribbled out the mental note. Right. They didn't do that anymore.

He listened to his friends fill Himchan in on their past two years: the mini-albums and comebacks, the music shows and tours. Himchan seemed to have gleaned some of it from Yongguk's postcards, but mostly he seemed content to listen. Jongup kept his eyes trained on the grill as long as he could, but at some point meat really did reach its peak done-ness; it was all downhill to burn-ville from there.

He piled the beef on the platter and turned around, setting the dish on the table before he let his eyes lift to glance at Himchan.

Himchan was watching him. Their eyes met for a minute. Jongup didn't know who looked away first; he flailed for his bottle of soju. Then he was being tugged into the last remaining seat on the end next to Daehyun, nearly right across from Himchan.

This was all a little disconcerting.

The others were still chattering away, Daehyun and Youngjae interrupting each other as always, Junhong dropping in details whenever they were forced to stop for breath. Himchan turned his attention from Jongup to focus on the others, letting Jongup collect himself. He found Yongguk watching him instead with a small intense frown.

_Okay_? his expression asked. Jongup gave a tiny nod in response. He was fine. He had this. It was fine. 

Junhong started telling Himchan of the MV where he'd had a kiss scene. Or rather, he _tried_ to tell the story, which was impossible with Daehyun and Youngjae there. 

"It took them _six hours_ to shoot," Youngjae interrupted gleefully. "because he kept asking her _questions_."

"What kind of questions?" Himchan still knew how to meet each cue. Jongup caught him send a quick wink at Junhong, who had his face half-covered in embarrassment. 

"Like--like about her _family_ , and--and her h-h-hobbies..." Youngjae could barely get the words out through his laughter. "She was so confused they almost had to get Dae to do it--"

"I was being _polite_ ," Junhong said through his fingers. "You can't just walk up and _kiss_ someone!"

Himchan's laugh joined the others' and Jongup took a hasty swig of soju. That _laugh_. It was still so damned goofy. He remembered the first time he'd heard it, back when he was still so in awe of Himchan, who had seemed so much older, so confident and untouchable. He'd let out that dumb laugh at something--one of his own jokes, probably--and Jongup may not have fallen for him on the spot, but he'd definitely slipped a little.

The ground felt unsteady beneath him again.

He pushed himself back from the table gracelessly. "There's more stuff inside," he muttered. He didn't give anyone a chance to respond, just made his slightly stumbling way back to the kitchen, where he stood in front of the fridge, trying to remember how to breathe/stand/exist normally. 

Trying to remember that just a few hours before he'd been over this. 

"Jongup?"

He flinched at Himchan's voice, took a beat to steady himself before he turned back to face him. 

"Do you need another drink?" he asked. "Yongguk hyung's got wine around somewhere."

"Jongup." Himchan stepped inside the room. He had his hands stuffed in his pockets again. "Would you--rather I not be here?"

It was a stupid, impossible question. Jongup shook his head silently and looked away, tried to focus on a cluster of empty bottles on Yongguk's counter.

He heard Himchan sigh and forced himself to look at him. He was rubbing his temple absent-mindedly like he did when he had a headache. 

"I didn't mean to make things harder for you," he said finally. "I can just leave."

"I know," Jongup said pointedly. Every time he thought he was done being angry, he found some fresh reserve to pull from. Himchan winced at his tone but met his gaze evenly. It was Jongup's turn to sigh. "Sorry," he offered. Himchan shook his head.

"Don't be. You can yell at me if you want. Or if you want to talk....or if you just want to go back outside and ignore me and talk to the others..."

"You want me to ignore you?" Jongup asked, arching an eyebrow. 

Himchan gave a crooked half-smile. "No," he admitted. "I just want you to _talk_. I...missed the sound of your voice." And there he was, looking all _sad_ again and really this was just too much. Jongup realized he'd left his soju outside, so he grabbed a new one from the fridge, slammed the door needlessly, and pointed his bottle at Himchan. 

"You don't get to do that."

"What?"

"You don't get to leave me without like a second's warning and then come back and say shit like that and _look_ at me like you've been looking at me since you got here." Jongup glared at him for a minute, remembered his drink, opened it, drank some. Continued to glare. Himchan's face was unreadable. 

"I don't know any other way to look at you," he said finally. "And as for the rest--did you even read my letter?"

"Did I--" Jongup rolled his eyes. He didn't think it strictly necessary to mention that the letter lived in the drawer next to his bed, that he'd read it so many times it felt more like cloth than paper at this point. Read it? He'd fucking memorized it. "Yeah, I read it."

"Well..." Himchan seemed at a loss. "I tried to explain--"

"It was too _risky_ for us to stay together," Jongup said scornfully. "I got it."

"It doesn't _seem_ like you got it, if that's all you took away from it," Himchan said. He folded his arms across his chest, which was ever so slightly broader than it used to be, not that Jongup was about to notice that kind of thing. "Did you read the part where I told you--" He paused, glanced over his shoulder to make sure none of the others had come after them. 

They were all still outside; Jongup wasn't sure whether to be grateful or annoyed that they were leaving the two of them alone. He could just picture the others whispering speculations across the table, Junhong casually blocking Youngjae from peering at them through the glass door. 

Satisfied they were still on their own, Himchan turned back and took another few steps closer. He lowered his voice. "The part when I said that I meant it every time I said I loved you, and I never for a _second_ meant to hurt you?"

He was too close now. His presence used to have a clarifying effect on Jongup, but now he felt dizzy, unmoored with every step Himchan took--and even more so by the sound of him saying he loved Jongup. _Had_ loved, past tense. That shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. 

"I read that part," he said simply. Of course he had. It hadn't made him any less abandoned. 

"Maybe it was stupid," Himchan said after a time. "Unbelievably stupid, probably. Hell. I've been so--so out of the world, I don't even know if that article changed anything or helped anyone." He looked at Jongup. "I kind of have to hope it did, because I'll be really angry at myself if I hurt the person I care about more than anything for no reason."

Jongup didn't miss his use of the present tense. He remembered the bottle of soju in his hand. He set it on the counter behind him. He wished his head were clear. Himchan was still _looking_ at him. 

He could have told him a thing or two about the aftermath of the article, but the details suddenly felt fuzzy and unimportant. 

Everything outside of the kitchen felt fuzzy and unimportant.

"What were you expecting to happen when you came back?" he asked. It came out sounding angrier than he felt. He realized he was shaking. At least he wasn't rocking.

"I don't expect anything from you, Jongup-ah," Himchan said quietly. "Just--if you've been thinking all this time that I did what I did because I didn't care about you, or because you weren't enough or something, that's--really, really wrong."

Jongup nodded. He leaned casually against the counter. He folded his arms casually across his chest. His heart continued to beat casually in his chest.

The thing--the very small insignificant _casual_ thing, was that it sounded an awful lot like Himchan maybe possibly still had some not-casual feelings for him. This was causing a somewhat not-casual surge of hope in his chest that he would have liked to casually beat to death with a hammer. (The hope, not his chest, which already felt somewhat damaged by this conversation.) This wasn't how the evening was supposed to go. Things were supposed to be simple now. Two years was supposed to be a reset button, yet here he was, suspecting Himchan of _feelings_ while drowning in some feelings of his own. 

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do with that," he said finally. "It doesn't change anything."

"No," Himchan agreed. "It doesn't." He sighed and took a step back--meaning to go back to the patio, maybe, or just leave altogether. Then he paused, and he and Jongup both looked down at Jongup's hand, which had apparently developed its own brain stem and grabbed Himchan's arm. 

Jongup didn't know what he was doing, or what he wanted. He just knew he wasn't ready for Himchan to walk away just yet. 

"Tell me what I'm supposed to do," he insisted. Himchan let him pull him half a step closer.

"I can't."

"No fair."

Himchan smiled again. "Believe me, if I could make this easier, I would."

"What do _you_ want?" Jongup asked. The other man's smile faded and he looked at his feet. 

"Same thing I always wanted," he said. 

Jongup let go of him. He'd been right before; this really truly was too much. 

"I have to go," he said. Himchan's eyes lifted to his, and he nodded. "Tell them I went home?" Jongup said. Himchan nodded again. 

The dancer backed away, made for the front hallway. He stopped in the doorway, looked back. Himchan was still in the middle of the kitchen. 

"It's just too much right now," Jongup explained weakly. Himchan cleared his throat. 

"I know," he said. "Good luck in Japan."

Jongup's response-- _Thanks? See you later?_ \--caught in his throat. He left the apartment, took the stairs down all fourteen flights, and it was only when he reached the bottom that he could breathe again.


	3. Chapter 3

_Alarms are blaring. Yang turns to look at Himchan. A bubble of blood blooms at the corner of his lips, then bursts._

_"I think we forgot something," he says._

Himchan woke up. Alarms were still blaring, and for a long moment he was utterly disoriented. The ceiling seemed to be only centimeters from his face, but it was smooth wood rather than the pock-marked plaster of the barracks. 

Plus that _sound--_ the alarms--

"Channiiiiie, get your phone," someone grumbled from somewhere above him. 

The world swooped a little as Himchan recognized the voice. Yongguk. And the noise--not the alarms after all, but his phone. He'd forgotten to reset the ringer when he reactivated it after he got home. 

He fumbled around near him--he was on the floor, right--until he located the offending rectangle and brought it to his ear.

"H'lo," he grunted, not bothering to check the ID, as if he even had any phone numbers anymore anyway.

"Rise and shine, ugly."

Himchan scrubbed a hand over his face, trying to wake up. "Kyung?"

"Where are you?" his friend asked. Himchan looked to his left and right. Ah. The "ceiling" above him made sense now. 

"I appear to be under a coffee table," he said. 

"Naturally," Kyung said. Himchan jumped as a body--Yongguk's--rolled off the top of the table and onto the floor beside him. Yongguk waved at him vaguely.

"Who's calling at this hour?" he mumbled.

"Who's that?" Kyung asked at the same time.

"It's Kyung," Himchan told Yongguk. "It's Yongguk," he told Kyung. 

"Well _that_ didn't take long," Kyung said smugly. "Should I call back, or are you decent?"

"Should y--am I--what?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Sarge."

"Just--give me--a second--" Himchan groaned. He kicked Yongguk until the rapper rolled across the floor enough for him to slide out from under the table. Light was pouring in through the glass patio doors. It had to be nearly mid-morning. 

"You sound hoarse. You been crying or drinking?" Kyung asked. Himchan made a face as he recalled the absurd amount of soju he'd consumed the night before after Jongup basically took off at a run to get away from him. Too bad he'd never been the type to black out from alcohol. He wouldn't mind forgetting the way the younger man had looked at him.

The way he _looked,_ though...Himchan groaned. 

"There may have been a drink. Or two. Dozen."

He'd been _right there_ , within arm's reach of Jongup, and it had taken every last drop of his self-control not to touch him. He'd wanted to run his fingers across the planes of his face, those prominent cheekbones (even sharper now, how was that even possible), the perfect familiar shape of his mouth, and his _nose_ \--Himchan hadn't known it was possible to miss a nose of all things, but he'd very much missed Jongup's. 

Hell, he'd missed everything, from the seven perfect moles dotting his face and body (at least two of which not even the most eagle-eyed Baby would ever see) to his out-of-control, giddy laugh, to the way his lips curled ever-so-slightly in reaction to his hyungs' jokes. Most people wouldn't see it, but of course Himchan had spent years studying the many subtle expressions of Moon Jongup. Catch 'em all and you win a prize, unless you're insane enough to let it go. 

He'd almost told him everything in the kitchen. Himchan had little experience with keeping things from Jongup; every other time he'd tried, the dancer had found him out. Himchan missed telling him things--or maybe he missed the way Jongup's eyes used to train so steadily on his face when he did. He just--missed him, full stop. And he'd been weak and selfish enough to tell him so.

Letting him leave had been the only thing he'd done right all night.

Kyung was still talking, doing that thing where he said Himchan's name over and over again with increasingly stupid nicknames, until he started paying attention again. At the moment, the moniker of choice was--

"Chan-Dog?" Himchan repeated, just awake enough to be indignant. Yongguk let out a loud snort. 

"Yeah, thought I'd try it on for size," Kyung said. 

"Take it off," Himchan advised. "What do you want, anyway?"

"Mmm, you're too hungover to appreciate it. Call me after you get some coffee in you," Kyung said, and disconnected. Himchan rolled his eyes and tossed his phone across the room. 

"Ow," Yongguk complained as it apparently landed somewhere on his person. Himchan lifted his head enough to see his friend lying spreadeagle in the middle of the room.

"That's what you get for making me drink so much," he said. 

"Like I've ever been able to make _you_ do _anything_ ," Yongguk grumbled. 

The buzzer sounded before Himchan could come up with what was sure to be a dazzling rejoinder. Yongguk groaned and pulled himself across the floor by his forearms. It was such a ridiculous sight that Himchan had to giggle.

"We had to do that in boot camp, you know," he said.  "Your form is all wrong." Yongguk aimed a rude gesture at him over his shoulder and managed to pull himself up enough to hit the speaker button. 

"Who's'it?" he grumbled.

" _Only me, let me up,_ " came Youngjae's tinny and altogether-too-cheerful voice. Yongguk sighed and buzzed him in before slumping back into a heap on the floor. He and Himchan exchanged a look of such mutual regret that they both cracked up a second later. 

"We're almost _thirty_ ," Yongguk giggled with some wonder. Himchan scoffed. 

"Speak for yourself; I'm still a kid compared to you," he said. 

"Channie's ollllld," Yongguk teased, just as there was a pounding at the door. They both winced. "It's open!" Yongguk called. 

"Hyung, what have I told you about how you answer the door?" Youngjae sounded alert and exasperated as he let himself in and toed off his shoes. Himchan felt a rush of headache-obliterating pleasure at the sight of his dongsaeng. He had missed Yoo Youngjae. 

The younger stood in the doorway and surveyed his hyungs. He was a breath of fresh air, a beautiful sight only partly thanks to the cardboard tray he was carrying with three coffee cups. Himchan waved from his spot on the floor.

"Well. This is all a little pathetic," Youngjae observed. Yongguk stuck his tongue out at him. 

"No coffee for you until you've showered," Youngjae told him, not abashed in the slightest. "We're supposed to be on a plane in two and a half hours."

Yongguk gave an unintelligible grumble and pushed himself to his feet, slouching down the hall towards the bathroom. 

"I don't have to be anywhere," Himchan said hopefully. Youngjae shook his head at him, but his smile was an ill-concealed thing. He joined Himchan sitting cross-legged on the floor and eased a cup out of its moorings. 

"You have to sit up to drink," he chided. This seemed fair. Himchan leaned against the couch and accepted the coffee gratefully. 

"Did Jongup make it home safely?" he asked. He already knew the dancer had texted Junhong, but he needed to know Youngjae had seen him with his own eyes. 

"Yeah. He's--well." Youngjae fixed him with a somber look. "I mean, he's not great."

Himchan shifted and took a long sip of coffee. It was several thousand times better than the stuff he'd choked down every morning the past two years, but Jongup's expression flashed behind his eyes again, and he couldn't enjoy the drink. 

"I know," he said. 

"When are you going to tell him the truth?" Youngjae asked. Himchan flinched; a stream of hot coffee splashed out of the hole in the lid. His dongsaeng was watching him keenly. 

"What are you talking about?" Himchan asked, relieved to find his voice was steady. Youngjae nudged him. 

"C'mon, hyung," he said. "I know what really happened. We might as well talk about it."

Himchan narrowed his eyes and studied the singer. Youngjae stared back for a beat, then bit his lip for just a second. His gaze skittered away from Himchan and back again.

"You're full of crap," Himchan decided. Youngjae slumped, rolled his eyes. 

"C'mon, Himchannie, there had to be _something_ you weren't telling us!" he complained. Himchan snorted. 

"You're paranoid," he said. "Did you think I'd forget you're forever scheming, hmm?" He dug a toe into the other man's side until he laughed. 

"I'm holding coffee!" he protested, holding the tray with Yongguk's cup aloft, and Himchan relented, lowering his foot and sipping his coffee as if Youngjae's words hadn't set his heart hammering double-time in his chest. Of course the singer would have questioned his story. He'd always been too smart for his own good.

Youngjae scooted around so he was half-leaning against the couch and half-leaning against Himchan.

"I still think you're hiding something," he said quietly. He poked Himchan's chest a few times until he swatted him away tiredly.

"Okay," he said. Youngjae could suspect all he wanted; if Yongguk and that asshole of a reporter had kept their mouths shut this long, they weren't likely to start talking now. Himchan's secret was safe as long as he could control himself--which probably meant staying away from Jongup. He had a hunch the dancer wouldn't mind. 

He rested his cheek against the top of Youngjae's head for a second. His hair was so _long_ ; Himchan hadn't realized how accustomed he'd become to military cuts. "How long are you guys gonna be in Japan?"

"'Bout a week." It was fairly standard for a new single release. Himchan supposed he was going to have to catch up on the group's discography soon. It would hurt to hear the five of them without him, but the members had been more involved with the writing all the time and Himchan was curious to hear what they'd come up with. 

"Why, are you gonna miss us?" Youngjae asked, tilting his head to look up at him, batting his eyes. 

Himchan made a dismissive noise to hide the fact that he didn't know how to answer. He'd spent the past night trying to convince himself his friends were actually _there_. He couldn't stop cataloguing the changes that had arisen in each of them over the past two years. 

Daehyun in particular was different. He was so much more watchful of the dongsaengs now. When Himchan had slunk back onto the porch to confess that Jongup had left, the younger man had pulled out his phone and slipped inside to call him immediately. He didn't make a big thing out of it and returned a moment later. Himchan had caught the small nod that passed between him and Yongguk. 

Well, he'd asked Daehyun to take over for him when he'd left. He could hardly be upset that he had.

Except he was. It hurt to be on the outside. It hurt that Jongup could barely look at him. It hurt that Daehyun and Yongguk were so close now, even if Yongguk was being the closest to normal with Himchan of the lot of them. It hurt to see the hesitation in Junhong's eyes when he smiled at him, as if he still weren't sure Himchan would smile back. Himchan had known intellectually that there was no going back after what he'd done, but it still hurt to live in this new reality, where he was on the outside of B.A.P even while sitting among them.

This may have contributed to the amount of soju he'd consumed over the course of the evening. 

Youngjae bumped his shoulder lightly with his head.

"We'll miss _you_ ," he said, actually sounding serious for once. Himchan just smiled and focused on his coffee, swallowing down the lump in his throat.

"What are you gonna do?" Youngjae asked. "Like, not just this week, but--like, next in life?"

Himchan grimaced. "That's a big question to ponder before I've finished my first cup of coffee, Youngjae-ah," he said. 

"Sorry."

A door opened down the hall and a bare-chested, wet-haired Yongguk joined them on the floor. 

"We're gone almost a week," he told Himchan, accepting a cup from Youngjae.

"Yeah, Jae said."

"Will you be all right?"

Himchan blinked at him. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"When will you see your parents?" Yongguk countered. Himchan sighed and slumped back against the couch further. 

"No rush," he said. 

"You haven't seen them yet?" Youngjae asked incredulously. Himchan scowled. 

"I will, I just--haven't yet. Probably sometime this week. I'm surprised they haven't broken down Hana's door yet." Surprised, and a bit hurt. He didn't feel quite ready to see them yet, but he'd have expected them to want to see _him_.

"It'll be fine," Yongguk told him gently. "Just--take the baby with you when you go or something."

Himchan had already thought of this. He considered himself and Sangmi sufficiently close that it would be fine for him to use his niece as a human shield. He had every intention of spoiling her for the entirety of her life, so he didn't think she'd mind giving back a little.

"Yeah, it's no big deal," he said breezily. "I'll figure it out."

"That's the spirit!" Youngjae said, pounding Himchan on the chest. He grimaced and moved away. 

"Ow, Jae."

"Bet you missed that," Youngjae said. 

"Shit, I still need to pack," Yongguk realized.

**

Himchan was feeling ever-so-slightly sorry for himself as he watched his friends pull out of the parking lot. He'd forgotten what those last moments in the dorm were like before a trip abroad; the energy and excitement (not to mention triple-checking the dongsaengs' luggage to make sure they all had their passports and extra underwear). There was less yelling in Yongguk's apartment, of course, but he let Himchan pick out an outfit for the airport and if it weren't for him he'd have left without his good face lotion, so the soldier felt useful. 

Right up until the moment they left without him, anyway.

Fuck. He wasn't in the mood for self-pity. He began his walk to the train station, pulling out his phone as he went. 

"You back in the land of the living, or what?" Kyung asked by way of greeting. 

"Yeah, yeah. What's up?"

"Well, so, you know how you were famous?"

"...I vaguely remember, yes."

"And you know how, out of deep abiding respect for our friendship or whatever the fuck, I refrained from looking your ugly ass up all over the internet for the past two years?" Kyung continued. 

"Pretty sure that had more to do with the whole "no internet in the barracks rule," but whatever helps you sleep at night," Himchan said. 

"Fuck you; I'm a paragon of self-restraint. Except that ended last night and holy _shit_ , Sarge--"

"Can you not call me that anymore?"

"Holy _shit,_ Chan-Dog--"

"I'm hanging up now."

"Nononono wait, sorry, sorry!" Kyung's apology was somewhat undercut by his hysterical honking laughter, but Himchan found himself grinning. He wondered what it would be like to introduce Kyung to B.A.P.  That would be...entertaining. 

"But okay so I looked you up and first of all I can't believe you never told us what a _stud_ you were. Stud. All--all singing and dancing and--reaching longingly for the camera--" He dissolved into laughter again and Himchan rolled his eyes, privately a bit disappointed he hadn't been there with Kyung the first time he watched Himchan perform. Maybe he could convince him to visit Seoul so Himchan could actually catch up on B.A.P's music; he guessed it would be a lot more fun and a lot less depressing with the other soldier there to keep him from taking it all too seriously. 

"Yes, yes," was all he said, making his voice sound testy. Kyung always thought he knew how to get a rise out of him, but usually he didn't come close. His ability to try Himchan's patience couldn't match the level of Jung Daehyun.

"But--hee!--okay so second of all, I can't believe you never told us you got out of the industry like such a _badass_. Outing your company, man? Good on you. Those fucks. Deserve every piece of shit publicity they got." He sounded serious now. Himchan wondered if he were thinking of his own siblings, two of whom were musically inclined. Kyung had a protective streak he hid behind lots of swearing and pretending not to care about anything much.

"Um. Thanks," Himchan said, nonplussed. 

"And _third_ of all--FuckKimHimchan.tumblr.com."

"Sorry?"

"It's a website. Not so much a nice one. So like a bunch of fans or ex-trainees or whatever write all this mean shit about you. They're at war with HimchanSavedMyLife; that's all the people who actually appreciate not having to take drugs or starve themselves to try to be perfect or whatever. It's fucking wild, man."

"Wild," Himchan echoed. He felt a little sick at the thought. Hate sites about him? The idea didn't torment him the way it might have a few years ago, but it wasn't especially comfortable, either. And the world had gone seriously topsy-turvy when _Kyung_ of all people knew more about Himchan's press than he did. He had some research to do.

**

Hana's feet hurt. Also her back. And head. And her neck was doing this weird thing--? She was seriously getting old.

"You need to talk to him."

She lifted her head from the bed just enough to see her husband standing in the doorway holding Sangmi. 

"Who?" she asked. 

"The very sad man in our living room loosely resembling your baby brother..."

"Oh, _him_." Hana dropped her head again. Sanghun joined her, sitting on the edge of the bed, and put Sangmi down on Hana's stomach. She smiled down at her daughter, who mewled back at her, head bobbing. "Hello, little one," Hana said softly. It was the closest to baby talk she would get. She couldn't understand the urge to coo at children as if they were baby animals. 

"Yes, him," Sanghun agreed, stretching out beside her. "He's been in there for almost three days now, he's going all hollow-eyed."

This was true. Himchan had come back from seeing B.A.P and proceeded to fall down some kind of internet rabbit hole. He'd tear his eyes away from his phone or Hana's laptop long enough to play with Sangmi for awhile, but then he'd get straight back to it.

"He's working through some stuff," Hana said. 

"What stuff?"

"Being home, not being in the group anymore, mending his broken heart, trying to figure out his future--take your pick." Personally, Hana wouldn't be surprised if it took her brother months to get back on his feet.

Her husband was watching her. "What?" she said.

"That's some heavy stuff to carry alone," Sanghun said gently. Hana sighed and brushed a few fine hairs off Sangmi's forehead. She remembered when Himchan was little--not quite _this_ little, maybe a toddler--and Hana had wanted to protect him from everything. But he'd been such a foolhardy little guy, wanting to do everything himself, always running ahead and getting into trouble. But from the start he'd had a knack for getting himself out of it--one of the perks of having that smile of his, maybe.

He hadn't needed Hana in a very long time. 

"Oh, fine," she huffed finally. 

Himchan was right where she'd seen him last, huddled amid a pile of blankets on the couch, face lit from the screen of the laptop. He barely looked around when Hana sat next to him. She should have brought Sangmi; the baby alone seemed able to lift him out of his stupor.

She had to say his name a few times to get his attention. 

"Hmm?" he said, finally tearing his eyes away from the screen.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm--reading about what happened after I left. It's crazy, I had no idea--"

 _Oh_. Somehow, Hana hadn't considered this. 

The article that had spurred Himchan's abrupt career change had caused other changes that rippled far beyond him. Public opinion had been divided, many calling for greater transparency from the major companies, everyone wanting to be assured that their idols were happy and healthy. Some began to publish regular health releases on their artists.

Other artists had been set adrift as their own drug use or extreme diets were revealed. Some fans condemned the companies as hypocrites with their new zero tolerance policies. Others blamed Himchan for starting the whole thing. To their mind, idols knew exactly what was expected of them, and had a professional responsibility to live up to a particular set of standards. If they were unwilling or unable to do so, they could find another line of work.

"Oh. It is crazy," Hana agreed, leaning back against the couch. 

"There's this site where all these ex-trainees are coming forward and half of them are talking about the insane conditions they were living in and the other half's pissed at _me_ because they think they performed better with those pills and they couldn't hack it without them--"

"What good does it do to read any of that?" Hana interrupted. "It's already done."

"It's not, though, this is still happening right now, look--" He tried to show her the screen but Hana pushed it away. 

"You still haven't told me what it was like to see your group," she said. She felt a little stupid for not realizing it before. Himchan had always _talked_ , even when they were kids and Hana would offer him nothing but eye rolls and scorn. It wasn't the response that Himchan looked for so much as the talking. 

He'd seen B.A.P--meaning, he'd seen Jongup--for the first time in two years. And he'd said nothing. 

He didn't meet her eyes. "They're not my group," he muttered. "Not anymore."

This struck Hana as patently ridiculous. Never mind how ecstatic Yongguk had been when she told him her brother was coming home; she'd _seen_ the six of them together enough times to know there was no breaking the bond between them. They simply fit together, each person an essential piece of the puzzle. 

"They'll always be your group," she said. Himchan just gave a half-shrug. 

Hana wished for their father. He always knew what to say. He was gentler than the rest of the family. Hana felt strange in her own skin trying to get Himchan to open up to her. It had never required this much effort before. 

She changed tactics. 

"What's your plan here?" she asked briskly. "You can't stay on this couch forever."

He looked at her. "You're kicking me out?"

He looked so lost it was trying to activate some kind of sentimental maternal thing in Hana's chest. She pushed it aside.

"Of course not. But you know you'll have to see Eomma and Appa at some point, right? They're getting home next week; I just think you'll feel better seeing them if you have some kind of plan, you know?"

Himchan blinked a few times. "Getting...home? From where?"

Oh, right. Of course he wouldn't know, because Hana hadn't told him. Possibly he wasn't the only Kim failing at communication this week.

"They took a trip to China, you know they've always wanted to go," she said. 

Her brother digested this for a moment. "How's Eomma managing travel?" he asked at last. 

"You should see her with her wheelchair now, she's amazing. She's managing really well. Anyway, you can ask her all about it when you see her."

Her brother dropped his head onto the back of the couch. "So they haven't just been ignoring me," he muttered. Hana winced again at her own carelessness. He _would_ think that.

"Of course they haven't." She reached out and ran a finger through his hair. She wondered how long it would take to grow out. 

"I don't think I can see them anyway. What the hell would I even say?"

"You'd say _Hi Eomma, hi Appa, how was China_ and go from there."

"Hah." He continued to stare at the ceiling, disconsolate. Hana considered taking a picture of him and sending it to Moon Jongup. She had no doubt the dancer was responsible for this little bout of depression moreso than any of the stupid anti-Himchan websites he'd found these past few days. She recognized avoidance when she saw it; Himchan had always been very good at pretending to be upset about one thing while ignoring whatever it was that was actually wrong. 

Hana spotted Sanghun lurking in the doorway. She gave him a _now what?_ look. He gave her a look right back that seemed to say _he's_ your _brother._

She was so tired, though. Having a baby was about six thousand times more exhausting than she'd anticipated, and she was generally one for realistic expectations. She simply didn't have it in her to, like, beat Himchan back to normal like she would have in the old days.

"Want to watch a movie?" she offered. "All we have around now are cartoons, but--"

Himchan winced. "I'm good," he said, offering her a painful facsimile of a smile. 

" _Don't_ say anything," Hana told Sanghun sternly when she pushed him into the kitchen a minute later. "It'll be fine, I just--may need to call in reinforcements."

**

_hyung you remember this place we got okonomiyaki that time?? it sucks now or maybe i just suck at grilling, kekeke, wish you were here_

Himchan couldn't help smiling at the text and accompanying photo from Junhong. Judging from the picture, neither the food nor the maknae's cooking actually sucked, but it was nice to know he was missed. He sent off a quick response, shooting a picture of his own meager dinner. Yongguk, at least, would be envious of the ramyun. 

The front bell rang. 

Himchan sighed and looked down at himself, judging whether he was fit to answer the door. His family had all gone to a dinner party, so he had the house to himself. He couldn't imagine that anyone dropping by unannounced would be expecting to find _him_ , but he supposed it could be important, and he was decent enough in his sweats and t-shirt. He hauled himself to his feet and made his way to the door. 

He blinked at the visitor. 

"Mina!"

His ex looked him up and down. "Hi there," she greeted him lightly. "Are you busy?"

**

"Drink this." She put a cup of tea down in front of Himchan. He leaned forward and peered into the mug as his friend settled herself on the other end of the couch.

"Mina," he said. "Is there some reason you're treating me like I'm sick?"

"Is there some reason you're acting like you are?"

He let out a half-hearted scoff. 

"I'm fine," he said. "Hana and I talked, everything's fine."

Mina pursed her lips and blew on her own tea. "Well. I don't actually think you did and I don't actually think you _are_ , but that's not why I'm here."

"Oh?" He studied her, trying to guess. She looked good, he supposed, but then, everyone familiar looked wonderful to him. She'd changed her hair or something. Whatever. She was Woo Mina, his oldest friend, first love, unexpected confidant. They'd had a rough time of it when they found themselves back in each other's lives, but in the end she'd had his back, same as ever, and it was good to see her.

She put her tea down and turned on the couch to face him fully. 

"So. You know I'm still with the orchestra, it's great, blah blah blah."

"Living your dream, yeah, _blah blah blah_ ," Himchan agreed, rolling his eyes. Mina ignored his tone.

"Well, we won a grant this year to work with a number of secondary schools in Seoul--we mean to put together a new junior orchestra, kind of like the one we were in together, only a bit younger and we're _hoping_ to involve the kids in every step of the musical process, including composition."

"That sounds amazing," Himchan said honestly. "Congratulations on the grant, that's huge." He thought a bit wistfully of his own days in his first--and last--orchestra. He'd always liked being part of a group. 

"Thank you, I'm _so_ excited," Mina said earnestly. "They're kind of letting me take the lead on this; I saw the whole grant application process through." Her cheeks went pink and she looked pleased with herself, and Himchan was torn between pride, amusement, and maybe just a touch of envy. Before he could congratulate her again, though, she went on. "But so that's why this timing works out so well; I really need someone who knows composition and--no offense--everyone else in the orchestra is so tied up with their own practice and performance schedules, so I thought--well--it's kind of perfect, right?"

Himchan blinked. "You do know you have a tendency to kind of barrel on past pertinent details sometimes, right?" She looked at him blankly. He sighed. "I mean, _what's_ kind of perfect?" he prodded. 

"Right, sorry, too fast." She grinned at him. "Himchan, I want you to come help me start this orchestra. You can teach composition--I mean, you can teach half a dozen instruments if you want, honestly, you'll be perfect for this--"

She kept talking, laying out details. Himchan was still trying to wrap his head around the idea. Finally he just had to interrupt. 

"Mina!" he bellowed. "I--thank you, that's really nice of you, but--I can't do that."

She gave his nest of blankets a pointed look. "Did you have something else going on?" she asked politely. He rolled his eyes. 

"I haven't even _listened_ to music in two years, let alone--I'm totally out of the music mindset, there's no way--"

"I'd have thought you'd have been trying to catch up since you got back," Mina said. "And anyway, music isn't something you can lose."

Himchan wasn't so sure about that. Every time he'd pulled up a browser to finally listen to one of the songs Yongguk had sent him, his breath seemed to catch in his throat and he couldn't press play. 

Mina must have seen some of this in his face, because her expression softened. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked. "Hana said you saw them, and you've been kind of...well, a mess, ever since."

"They're in Japan, it's fine, I'm fine," Himchan said automatically. 

"Very convincing. And Jongup?" Mina asked, a bit timidly. 

"I don't want to talk about Jongup." It came out more harshly than he'd intended and he saw her flinch. "Sorry, Mina, just--" He picked up his tea again just to give his hands something to do. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize," she said. "And don't make up your mind about the orchestra just yet, okay? Think it over. You know, if you can find the time." 

"Ah yes; there's the rapier wit I've so missed," Himchan said.

**

Jongup liked Japan. It was beautiful, the food was amazing, the fans were sweet, the hotel was comfortable.

Except for some reason, this time around, he was practically crawling out of his skin.

He comforted himself that they only had another day and two nights, then they could go home. Surely he'd sleep better in his own bed.

He hoisted his suitcase onto the bed, the better to search for an elusive pair of clean boxers, but accidentally deposited the luggage onto Youngjae's foot. The singer yowled and pulled his legs up out of harm's way. 

"Sorry, hyung."

"Jonguppie, just--sit down, will you?" Youngjae said through gritted teeth. 

Jongup motioned to the bathroom. "I was just--"

"You've been stomping around for four days like some kind of--of--stomping guy--"

"Oh, well-said," he commented. Youngjae kicked at him.

"Whatever, I'm _tired,_ it's late--you're usually a _fun_ roommate," he said accusingly. Jongup grimaced. 

"Sorry, I'm just--a little distracted."

"You two need to kiss and make up," Youngjae said. Jongup glared at him. "What? That worked once before!" he defended. The dancer rolled his eyes and pushed his suitcase onto the floor. Fuck underwear; he could sleep commando.

"I'm gonna shower."

"He's still wearing it, you know."

Youngjae's voice made him pause, though he didn't turn to look at him. "What?"

He heard the bed creak as Youngjae stood up. "His ring, like the one he gave you for your anniversary? He's got his on a chain around his neck."

Jongup did turn at this, while his heart did something complicated in his chest. "You saw it?" he said. His voice sounded strained. 

Youngjae smiled a little. "Felt it through his shirt," he said. 

Something that felt unmistakably like _disappointment_ washed over Jongup. "You don't know, then," he said, turning back to the bathroom. 

"Yeah, I do," Youngjae said wearily. "And so do you."

 _I want the same thing I always wanted_. 

Himchan's words had been echoing in Jongup's mind since the moment he'd uttered them, no matter how hard the dancer had tried to ignore them. He wanted to believe them, yet at the same time he didn't _want_ to want to believe them.  

Everything in his head was a jumble.

"Why are you telling me this?" he asked, suddenly angry. He'd been _fine_ a week ago, and now--

"Because you're miserable again and...I think maybe you don't need to be," Youngjae said. "Just think about it, yeah?"

Jongup couldn't bring himself to speak. He grabbed his backpack and locked himself in the bathroom. He sat on the edge of the tub, staring at nothing for a moment, before pulling his bag to him and rifling decisively through the pockets.

His ring was still on the black cord Himchan had given him two and a half years ago. Jongup had long since stopped wearing it, but he never felt quite right traveling without it somewhere in his luggage. He'd had a dozen close calls with his passport, but he'd never once lost track of his ring. 

He slipped it onto his thumb for just a second, recalling the way it caught on his knuckle, then he drew it off again as if it had burned him. 

_I want the same thing I always wanted._

"Fuck," he said aloud, his voice echoing against the tile. 

They really needed to get back to Korea.


	4. Chapter 4

Jongup didn't know what he was doing. He barely knew how he'd gotten there, but somehow he wound up on the street outside of Hana's house, just...staring. He wasn't sure if he was trying to talk himself into or out of knocking on the door. 

He knew he hadn't been able to get Youngjae's words out of his head for two days. 

_He's still wearing it...His ring._

Jongup had been searching his memories of the reunion with Himchan, trying to remember if he'd had a chain tucked into his shirt. But Jongup had been so consumed with his face, with the overwhelming reality of him, and he hadn't noticed. 

_He's still wearing it..._

Well, so what if he was? Did that change anything? Did it even _mean_ anything?

Okay, fine, dumb question. Of course it meant something. Paired with the way Himchan had looked at him that night, which was basically the same way he'd _always_ looked at him--well. It mattered. It meant Jongup had been at least partly off-base all this time to assume Himchan hadn't wanted him, in the end. 

But if that was true, nothing made any sense. Unless there was something else with those damn pills that Jongup didn't know about; something else that had happened to spur Himchan into action, even at the expense of his own career and their relationship...

These weren't new ideas. Jongup had been over it all again and again for months after Himchan had left. Aside from the obvious fact that everything was wrong without him, everything _felt_ wrong, like, in the logic department. Youngjae had spun theory after theory, and while he tried not to do it in front of Jongup, the walls of the dorm were thin, and the dancer couldn't _not_ listen. 

But without Himchan there, nothing could be proven, no theory confirmed. Jongup made himself sick trying. Until at last one morning he woke up, alone in his room, feeling hollow but clear-headed for the first time in months. 

He was scheduled to work on the choreography for his solo dance performance that day. He'd been thinking about it for a few weeks without much genuine interest. He realized if he didn't snap out of this he was going to blow it. "It" being his career, his future. Any care he had for these had been buried under his misery for so long that it felt strange to realize their embers were still burning. 

He wasn't done yet. Himchan wouldn't want him to be done yet. So he'd gotten up, showered, joined a very surprised and gratified Daehyun for breakfast. He'd gotten back to work. 

And after, when he heard Youngjae begin to weave fresh theories in the next room, he'd slip on his headphones and tune him out. 

But this was two years later and Himchan was back. Things still didn't fit. 

Maybe that's what he was doing here. Surely after so much time, he and Himchan could hold a normal conversation again. Jongup had had his little freakout, and now he was fine. 

_He's still_

_wearing_

_it_

Totally fine. He just had some questions.

He made his feet step onto the stone path and up to the door. He made his hand form a fist and knock.

There was a pause, and then there came something that sounded a bit like a siren, gaining in volume on the other side of the door, before it was thrown open. 

"Jongup-ah, hi!" Himchan said, maybe--it was hard to hear him over the screams of the baby he was holding. Jongup blinked at the infant, then up at Himchan, who was looking frazzled and not at all like he thought it odd to find Jongup on his doorstep after his graceless departure the week before. "Um. Come in?" 

Jongup went in. 

Himchan led him into the living room, shifting the baby from one shoulder to the other as he went. She was startled into silence by the movement and Himchan turned back to Jongup, taking advantage of the pause in the cacophony.

"This has been going on since Noona and Sanghun left an hour ago; thank god you're here," he said. "I don't even know what's wr--"

The baby let out another wail and Himchan's face crumpled with dismay. It would have been funny if his distress weren't so obviously genuine. Jongup bit his lip to keep from smiling and motioned for Himchan to hand over the baby. He did so with clear relief. For a moment, she was screaming right in Jongup's ear, and then she seemed tor realize she didn't know him, and she stopped abruptly, staring at him with wonder.

"Hello," Jongup said softly, smiling. She was the prettiest baby he'd ever seen, maybe because he could see her family resemblance to Himchan. He glanced at the older man, only to find he was staring at him like he was some sort of apparition. "What's her name again?"

"Sangmi--how'd you _do_ that?" Himchan demanded, pitching his voice soft. 

"I think she's just surprised," Jongup said. Sangmi was still staring at him with watery eyes but he could sense her ramping up few a fresh bout of screams. "Does she need her diaper changed or anything?"

"No, I just checked. _And_ Noona fed her right before she left, _and_ she already napped--I don't know what's wrong! I thought she liked me." He looked so sad Jongup bumped his shoulder comfortingly. The motion coincided with Sangmi letting out a fresh screech. 

"I wouldn't take it personally," Jongup said loudly. "Does she have a pacifier or special toy or anything?"

"I can't find it anywhere!" Himchan said. He ran a hand through his hair, making the short strands stand up in little tufts. It was distractingly cute.

(Shit, when did Jongup start thinking like this again?) 

They spent several fruitless moments searching for the pacifier and holding a series of toys in front of the baby in an attempt to distract her. They tried bouncing her. They passed her back and forth (Jongup wondered if Himchan could feel how his heart sped up every time his arm brushed against his chest.) They played games of peek-a-boo. 

Jongup was just wondering whether they should try calling Yongguk for help when Himchan checked the sofa cushions for the nth time and came up victorious with a fuzz-covered pacifier. He held it aloft like it was the Olympic torch and ran to the kitchen to clean it off while Jongup cheered. 

The pacifier cut off Sangmi's cries as cleanly as though she'd been put on mute, and she nom'ed it happily while the men collapsed on the couch with her propped up between them.

"Oh my god," Himchan groaned. "I just. That was." He burst into hysterical giggles and covered his face. "I'm so sorry, I'm having a nervous breakdown," he said. Jongup patted his shoulder supportively and this seemed to sober him up a bit. He gave him an uncertain smile. "Welcome back, by the way. How was Japan?"

He was still acting like it was normal, Jongup being here. Hell, in all the baby-management, Jongup had _felt_ normal. Like it was the old days, him and Himchan, making shit up as they went along. 

"It was fine," he said automatically, then changed his mind and shook his head. "Actually, no. It sucked."

Himchan tilted his head. "The concerts, or what?"

"No, I just--wanted to get home," Jongup said. Himchan's expression went very carefully blank. Jongup could see the effort it took. 

"How come?"

Well. Moment of truth. He made himself really look at Himchan and tried to quell his trepidation. He was almost _sure_ he knew how the older man felt. If he was wrong, though...he didn't think he'd survive Himchan letting him down gently. His eyes drifted down Himchan's throat and he spotted the silver line of a chain around his neck, tucked into his shirt. 

"Jongup-ah?"

He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to speak. 

The front door banged open behind them. 

"Sorry I took so long, traffic was a nightma--oh!" Hana stopped short in the doorway, surprised. Jongup made to rise and bow, remembered the baby he was propping up, clumsily helped Himchan pick her up, and stood.

"Hi, noona," he said. 

"Jongup," she said evenly. Her eyes flickered between him and her brother. "How are you?"

"Good! Thanks. Um, I was just--" He glanced back at Himchan and stopped. He hadn't decided how to explain it to Himchan yet, let alone his sister. 

"He helped me find this little one's pacifier," Himchan said smoothly, seeing Jongup's hesitation. He stood and passed the baby to her mother. 

"Well, good, then," Hana said. She peered around Himchan to look at Jongup. "You feel like noodles, Jongup?"

"I've got beef marinating," Himchan interjected. "No more noodles for you." Hana pinched his cheek. 

"I've never loved you more," she said solemnly. "You feel like beef, Jongup?"

"Umm. Okay," Jongup said, because Himchan was looking guardedly hopeful and everything was still unfinished and Himchan was an excellent cook and and and and. 

"Great!" Hana turned to Himchan and murmured something about lying down for a bit, and she drifted away down the hall. 

"You don't have anywhere to be?" Himchan asked. 

"Nah, it's a free night."

They wound up in the kitchen, Jongup assisting Himchan with the cooking. It brought to mind so many times they'd done the same over the years. Something about cooking seemed to calm Himchan, and Jongup had always enjoyed being around him in the kitchen. (Plus it had always been a surefire way of getting extra meat, as the older man was generous with samples.)

Now, though, it felt good to be _doing_ something together. It took the awkwardness away to have their attention occupied by something besides each other. It meant they could talk almost normally, like they used to--not about anything important, but Himchan told Jongup all about the terrible food they'd had in the army, all while mixing up a dish so delicious it made Jongup's eyes roll back in his head when he tasted it. 

Sanghun was working late, so it was just Himchan, Jongup, and Hana for dinner. Hana had a lot of questions for Jongup about the past few years; he got the sense she was asking so that Himchan wouldn't have to. That was okay. It was easier to look at her than her brother anyway, though he felt the other man's eyes on him through the whole meal. 

Finally, though, dinner was over, and Himchan was shooing his sister away to get Sangmi ready for bed, promising to take care of the dishes before he went to sleep himself later.

"I can help," Jongup offered. Himchan waved him off.

"I already put you to work plenty tonight," he said. He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Um. You want a drink?" He pulled a few beers out of the fridge and offered one to the dancer. "There's soju, too, if you'd rather--"

"This is fine," Jongup said quickly. 

They went out back. It was getting cold. Jongup relished the sharp breeze on his skin; he felt very awake. He and Himchan sat on the back stoop, a small distance between them. 

"You never said why Japan was so bad," Himchan said after a pause.

Jongup's fingers clenched painfully around his beer bottle. Well. If he hadn't wanted to answer the question, he wouldn't have stayed. 

He put the bottle down between his feet slowly and deliberately, then looked at Himchan. He was already looking at Jongup and didn't drop his eyes. Jongup did, but only as far as the chain around the other man's neck. Then, as if his hand had a will of its own, it reached out and tugged at the chain, drawing it out from under his shirt.

Himchan jerked away, startled, and the chain dropped from the crook of Jongup's finger, but not before he saw the familiar silver band dangling from the end of it. 

**

**Then**

**

"Pretty sure rings aren't standard issue, Pretty Boy." 

Himchan steeled himself and looked up into Lee Kyung's ugly face. He had no idea why, but the other man had latched onto him from the first, dogging his steps all the way through the first physical, when they'd wound up next to each other in line, through the five weeks of boot camp they'd just endured. 

Kyung had something to say about _everything_. Himchan hadn't thought there could be someone out there more talkative than Jung Daehyun, but trust his luck to find him right around when he really would have appreciated a little quiet. 

And now, with boot camp _finally_ finished, as Himchan was _finally_ adapting to feeling sore all over all the time, was _finally_ settling into his official barracks--here was Kyung again already.

"Don't tell me," Himchan said flatly. Kyung grinned his toothy grin and tossed his rucksack onto the next bunk. 

"You're in luck, roomie," he said. 

"There are like fifty other bunks to choose from."

"What can I say? I hate breaking in new people. I've already got you so well trained. I say _stack em,_ you say--"

"Fuck off?" Himchan supplied. Kyung laughed and the singer winced. He'd been sick of this guy's honking laugh from day one, not the least because it was so often directed at _him_.

"So, what's the story then, huh?" Kyung said, leaning in and running a finger down the shiny new chain around Himchan's neck until he got to the dog tags at the end--and the ring he'd stashed behind them. Trust Kyung to see it; his stupid bulging fish eyes were always catching the tiniest detail. He was already shaping up to be one of the best marksmen in their unit. 

Himchan grabbed his wrist and pushed it away hard.

"Fuck. Off," he suggested again, more slowly so that Kyung might have a better chance of understanding him. The other soldier stared at him for a long moment, then his lips twisted into a smirk.

"Careful, Kim," he said. "Keep glaring and your face'll stick like that and you'll turn as ugly as I am."

Himchan gave him another withering look and turned his back on him, unpacking his meager possessions. For once, the other man stayed quiet behind him. 

Not that the place was quiet; the other soldiers were filling in around them, joking and arguing over bunk space, calling across the cavernous room. Himchan got a few quiet _Kim_ 's in greeting, but not from anyone he recognized. He just nodded in response and carried on needlessly tidying his space. By now he was used to it; there had been several guys in boot camp who had recognized him, and word traveled fast about the ex-idol who would be joining the ranks. 

A few of the younger guys had been awed by him, while others seemed to hold him in the deepest disdain. Still others just _watched_ him at first, as if they thought he might do something idol-ish like randomly bursting into song. 

Himchan kept his head down through all of it, not speaking more than was necessary, literally working his ass off to keep up with the others. He ran until his lungs and legs burned, did push-ups until he could no longer lift his arms above his head, choked down the same miserable slop as everyone else three meals a day.

He didn't complain. This, he felt, was penance. What he'd done to Jongup--what he'd let him believe he felt--it was more than he could hope to pay back. He'd be damned if he let himself whine about it. 

In time, the interest in him dropped off, the attempts to befriend him (or in a few cases, be-enemy, if that was a thing) stopped. He didn't speak, nor was he spoken to, other than in reception of his orders.

All except for Lee Kyung. 

He'd started talking at someone else for the moment--because if Lee Kyung couldn't find someone to talk _to_ he would simply talk _at_ them--and Himchan had to bite back a growl of annoyance at the sound of his voice. He had no idea what the other man's purpose was behind bugging him all the time. He didn't seem interested in being friends, but then there was rarely any malice to him, either. Probably he was just one of those impossible social outcasts who just latched onto the nearest person like a leech; Himchan had been unlucky enough to be close enough to fall victim. One of these days, he figured the guy would have to drink his fill and drop off. Full of Himchan's blood.

Jesus. He was so morbid lately. 

"Um. Excuse me?" 

He looked at the end of the bed where a soldier--hell, a _kid_ , he must have been fresh out of secondary school--was standing. 

He was shifting anxiously from foot to foot. 

For a second, this familiar motion took Himchan's breath away.  He bit the inside of his cheek hard and forced himself to really look at the kid. He was round-faced and had the stretched-out look of one who had hit a sudden growth spurt, or maybe hadn't had a decent meal in a few weeks. 

Now the image of Jongup was sliding into equally unwelcome memories of Junhong. 

"What," Himchan ground out, harsher than he'd meant. The kid flinched slightly, then he squared his jaw and pointed to the bunk above Himchan's. 

"Bottoms are full up," he said. "D'you mind..."

An arm slung across Himchan's shoulders and he tensed.

"You don't need a written invite, kid, take your bunk," Kyung said. His voice had gone strange and it took Himchan a minute to realize why--it was the sudden lack of mocking to his tone. 

The kid gave Himchan one last cautious look and seemed emboldened when the singer, ashamed of himself, stepped back to allow him better access to the top bunk. He met Kyung's eyes by accident. They were narrowed as he glared at him. He held Himchan's eyes a beat before turning back to the newcomer. 

"I'm Lee Kyung. Don't mind this ugly asshole Kim; he grows on you after awhile." He gave Himchan a hard shake to punctuate his point. "You got a name?"

The boy gave them a cautious smile. "Yang," he said. 

**

**Now**

******

Himchan barely felt the ring thump back against his chest as the chain slipped from Jongup's fingers. His internal organs had apparently left his body; he didn't seem to need to breathe, nor could he feel his heart pounding or the blood pumping in his veins.

Jongup's _face_. He was looking at Himchan--well. Almost the way he used to. Back when he thought he was actually worth something. Himchan hadn't realized until now the extent to which he'd convinced himself Jongup would never look at him like this again. 

The fact that he was here at all, of his own volition, still felt like something out of a dream. He'd helped Himchan with Sangmi. He'd helped him cook. He'd stayed for dinner and chatted with Hana and he hadn't flinched away from Himchan when they strayed too close to each other in the kitchen and instead of saying something sensible, like _fuck no_ , when Himchan offered him a drink, he'd taken it and come out back with him and he knew about the ring ( _how_ did he know about the _ring_?!) and he didn't look angry about it. In fact, he was looking at Himchan with what could only be described as _longing_ , and now the empty cavity in Himchan's chest that should have held his heart and lungs was filling up with hope, hope, hope.

_You fucking asshole._

The hope withered at these words from the small cold voice in his head.

Because Jongup thought Himchan had left him. He didn't know about the damning pictures the reporter had taken of them. He didn't know that it was these, and not some misplaced sense of nobility or scheme to get out of their relationship, that had made Himchan expose his own drug use and the companies that were too willing to look the other way as their idols did the same.

Himchan had been willing to give up Jongup to keep him safe. It had felt like a simple trade at the time, if a devastating one. Now, he wondered how he ever thought he could keep the truth away from the younger man forever. He couldn't; not if he ever wanted him in his life again. It had been one thing to lie and leave, but he couldn't lie to Jongup's face forever. 

Nor could he seem to let him go for real. It felt too good to have him by his side again.

God, he was selfish. 

There was only one thing for it: he was going to have to find a way to tell the truth. And he had to do it before Jongup put words to the look in his eyes. Maybe Himchan was only seeing what he wanted to see, but he didn't think so. No way he could let Jongup forgive him until he had all the facts.

Himchan stood up hurriedly. 

"Sorry, just need to--bathroom, the wine," he explained, feeling like an idiot, backing for the door. Jongup looked a bit surprised but just nodded his understanding. His eyes were still on the ring. 

Inside, Himchan closed himself in the bathroom and pulled out his phone. 

_Pick up, pick up..._

"Himchan?"

"Fuck, Bbang, I have to tell him, I have to tell him before--fuck, I'm so _stupid_ \--"

His heart seemed to have returned to his chest and was making its presence known by banging and pounding unpleasantly.

"Slow down, Himchannie, what's going on?" Yongguk asked.

He caught sight of himself in the mirror. His cheeks were flushed and he had a slightly wild look in his eyes. He glared at the chain and its damning evidence. He hadn't meant to wear it all this time. It was just that he seemed to breathe easier with it there. 

"Himchan?" Yongguk said again, deep and worried. Himchan turned the water on as cold as it would go to splash his face.

"Jongup's here," he said quickly. "I'm afraid he's gonna--I don't know--" It felt too bold to say out loud: _I think Jongup might be about to forgive me_. He wouldn't believe it, except he _knew_ Moon Jongup. He knew that look in his eyes. It was very private and very special. The memory of that look was one Himchan had only let himself pull out on his very darkest nights in the army. 

"You have to help me," he said. 

"It doesn't sound like you need help," Yongguk said. "Don't you _want_ \--"

"Yeah I _want_ \--but I never actually thought--It can't happen on a lie," Himchan said. He still wasn't sure what _it_ might look like--getting back together? Being friends again? Either one would be far more than he'd dared hope for. "I have to tell him before he can say anything."

"So what are you calling me for?" Yongguk asked. "You know what to do."

"I can't do it _now_ ," Himchan hissed. "I'm not ready, I need to think how..."

He broke off to splash his face and wipe it dry, scowling at his reflection all the while.

_You fucking asshole._

"Help me," he said again. "Call him, tell him something to get him to go, please, I--fuck. Please, Bbang."

Yongguk sighed. "Give me three minutes."

**

"Sorry about that," Himchan said, rejoining Jongup out back. "What were we talking about?"

Stupid question. Jongup answered by simply pointing at the ring. Himchan hadn't bothered to slip it back under his t-shirt, figuring that horse was pretty well out of the barn at this point. 

"How'd you know it was there?" he had to ask. Jongup's lips quirked slightly and hell, Himchan really needed to not look at his lips. 

"Youngjae felt it through your shirt."

That explained all the chest-thumping the other morning. Himchan had figured his dongsaeng was just overexcited; it _was_ Youngjae, after all. He gave a short, rueful laugh.

"Shoulda known. Always a step ahead, that kid."

Jongup just looked at him. It was a more guarded look than the one he'd given him before Himchan...ran away like a really cool person would do. It was a _waiting_ look. 

Himchan sighed and touched the ring, slid it just to the first knuckle on his thumb. No lies. It was easier if he didn't look at the other man.

"I missed you," he said quietly. "A lot. And I felt really...cut off? From everyone. I kept it behind my dog tags as a kind of...security...thing. I guess I never thought to take it off." He gave Jongup an apologetic wince. "I'm sorry if that's weird," he said quickly. 

Jongup shook his head. "It's not," he said. His palms were resting on his knees. Himchan wanted very much to reach out and take his hand. Yongguk had to call _soon_ , but now Himchan didn't know if he was more worried about Jongup saying something or himself blurting everything out. He didn't want to do it like that. It was absurd; he'd had two years to figure out what to say. But he hadn't let himself think about it much. It tended to make breathing difficult. 

"I still have mine, too." Jongup's voice was low but clear. He looked back up at Himchan. "I don't wear it, but--it's in the box."

He knew the box Jongup was talking about and his heart gave a lurch. It was a shoebox and also not a shoebox. When he'd moved into the dorm with Yongguk and Himchan, before B.A.P was even fully formed yet, Jongup's older brothers had made the box. They'd taken pains to make it as cheesy and ridiculous as possible, covering the outside with photos of their family and Jongup's friends--and glitter. Lots and lots of glitter. And feathers. (Their reasoning, apparently, had been that it was " _a conversation piece_.") 

They'd filled it with mementos; some pictures, but mostly a motley collection of junk that wouldn't have meant a thing to anyone but the Moon brothers. 

Himchan had spotted it the day Jongup moved in, of course, just as Jongwhan and Jongin had intended. It was impossible to miss. 

"What's that, Jonguppie?" he'd asked with a laugh. The dancer's shoulders had tensed as he reluctantly eased the box out of his suitcase.

"Uhh. My hyungs made it? So I wouldn't...get...homesick." His voice dropped as he spoke so by the time he finished, Himchan could hardly hear him. He understood anyway, and his chest hurt a little at the way the smaller boy was biting his lip and avoiding his eyes. 

Himchan had settled on the floor beside him. "Can I see?" he asked. Jongup hesitated. Struck by inspiration, Himchan groped under his pillow until he came up with a very squashed and obviously well-loved penguin.

"This is Jag," he said formally. "I've had him since I was born."

Jongup's face was doing something interesting. Himchan found he liked watching it, even though he wasn't sure what it meant.

"What happened to him?" the dancer asked, reaching out a finger to point, stopping just short of Jag's threadbare beak. Himchan pet the penguin's head comfortingly (and a little guiltily).

"Apparently I used to carry him around in my mouth by the beak. For, like, three years," he confessed.

Jongup laughed; his eyes disappeared and his face changed completely and the sound was the lightest, brightest thing Himchan had ever heard. 

Jongup showed him the box. He explained the pictures, the cracked and faded key chain, the perfect spiral shell, the ancient cassette tape. 

It took three years of constant touring and traveling for poor Jag to meet his maker, but by then Himchan had found his greatest source of comfort elsewhere anyway. 

The box survived, shedding its glitter (how did it get everywhere when Jongup never even _moved_ it?!) but keeping its importance. Every so often, Jongup would add a new item. Himchan was touched now to think of the ring residing with the other items Jongup so prized. 

"Oh," he said. "I'm glad."

Some of the tension went out of Jongup's shoulders. "Himchan--"

His phone rang. Jongup pulled a frustrated look as he took the offending item out of his pocket. 

"Sorry, one sec--" he said. Then, answering, "Hyung?" in a clipped voice. Not Yongguk, then. Himchan could hear Daehyun, faintly. Yongguk must have asked him to call. Good, it wasn't so obvious that way--

_Right, involve more people you fucking asshole_

Jongup was frowning at whatever Daehyun was saying. "I thought that wasn't until--well what does that have to do with to _ni_ \--Okay, okay, fine...Yeah."

Himchan schooled his breathing. This was fine. It was fine. He had time.

Jongup hung up and rolled his eyes. "I have to go," he said grumpily. 

"Is everything okay?" Himchan asked, feeling very much like a fucking asshole--but a fucking asshole who'd been granted a temporary stay of execution.  He would have time to plan his confession after all.

"Yeah, we had this big interview scheduled for the day after tomorrow but I guess they moved it up a day and Daehyun hyung wants to do interview prep tonight, so..."

"Right." Himchan remembered too well the drudgery of interview prep: going through the approved questions, coming up with nice soundbite-y answers, deciding who would answer what if it wasn't specified. Sometimes it was almost fun, but more often it was just a trudge. It was one of the parts of fame Yongguk disliked the most, and his discomfort had always rubbed off on the others no matter how much Himchan tried to mitigate it. 

Jongup stood up and Himchan followed suit, frowning as he realized he didn't know how the younger man had gotten there. 

"Should I call you a cab?" he offered. He cast a worried look at the mostly-empty beer bottle. "You didn't drive, did you?"

Jongup slipped his hands in his pockets and smiled a little. "Yeah, but I'll be okay. It was less than one beer on a full stomach, hy--" He broke off before he could call Himchan "hyung," but of course Himchan caught the slip. He cleared his throat. 

"I guess that's true," he said reluctantly. "Come on, I'll--walk you to your car."

_So much for letting him go, genius_ , his small cold voice said. He ignored it as he followed Jongup through the house and out to the street in front. The dancer stopped in front of his car. 

"Thanks," Himchan said. "For helping me with Sangmi, and dinner and...stuff..."

The street lamp cast Jongup's features in sharp relief, making his cheekbones stand out even more than usual and throwing his eyes into shadow so Himchan couldn't read his expression. 

"No problem," he said. "Maybe we could...do it again sometime?"

Himchan's heartbeat was so loud in his ears he couldn't believe Jongup couldn't hear it. 

"Yeah," he managed. "Sangmi's pacifier gets lost all the time, so--"

Jongup ducked his head, but not before Himchan saw him smile--his real, full-on smile. 

"See you later, then," was all he said. 

Himchan watched until his car disappeared down the street.

**

"Jongup...Jongup...Jonguppie...Jonguppie-ahhhhhhh--"

Jongup swatted Daehyun's finger away from his face. 

"Boundaries, hyung," he reminded him. Also, "What?"

The elder made room for himself between Jongup and the arm of the couch by ignoring the whole boundaries plea and just _squashing_. Jongup rolled his eyes and budged over a bit, causing Junhong to budge over a bit. Youngjae, on the other end, just got up altogether, kicking Daehyun in retaliation as he passed him on the way to the drinking fountain.

Daehyun ignored all this and pet Jongup's hair. "You're very quiet," he commented. "You have been since yesterday. How come you won't say what you were up to?"

Jongup shifted a little and tried not to look at Junhong. The maknae was the only one he'd told about his impromptu visit to Himchan's, mostly because, of all of them, Junhong knew when it was best not to ask too many questions.

(Well, Yongguk wouldn't ask with his _voice_ , but his face did that _probing_ thing that made Jongup feel like he was being tickled and always made him want to confess to any and everything to make it stop.)

"It was nothing," he mumbled. Daehyun craned his neck to see him better. He looked worried. 

"You'd tell me if something was wrong, yeah?" he asked, pitching his voice soft, and Jongup relaxed a little. Daehyun had gotten better at this over the years, at reining himself in instead of ramping all the way up to a fever pitch the way he used to. 

Jongup smiled and nudged him. "Everything's _fine_ ," he said. "I just stayed up too late." 

This was true; after interview prep (during which they were all grumpier than usual, thanks to the rushed and last-minute nature of it. At least there were no cameras around to capture the mood for posterity) Jongup had tried to go to bed, but thoughts of Himchan swirled with his stupid interview answers and he didn't drift off until nearly dawn.

"Hmph." Daehyun said, subsiding. Jongup caught Yongguk giving him a narrow-eyed look, but fortunately Kang chose that moment to call them in for the interview. 

**

It was over quickly, or maybe it was just that Jongup zoned out for most of it. They'd worked with the interviewer enough times that it no longer fazed him; he just chuckled and move onto Junhong with the choreo questions.

After, they filed slowly into the hall, chatting amiably with the staff as they went. They came up short at the sight of Kang in the hall, red-faced and furious. 

"Absolutely _not_ , get out of here!" He was addressing a neatly dressed woman, who was scowling right back at him. 

"It's really not up to you," she snapped through gritted teeth, then straightened up when she realized they had an audience. Kang turned, too, and winced. The group had clearly not been meant to see this display of bad temper. 

Jongup could scarcely recall the manager _being_ in a bad temper, and particularly with a stranger, and glanced at Yongguk to see how the leader was taking it.

Yongguk was glowering--not at Kang, but at the woman. It was a full-on jaw-clenching scowl. Jongup and Junhong exchanged baffled looks before turning back to Kang and the woman. 

There might have been something familiar about her, but then, Jongup vaguely recognized half the people who worked in the building from all the interviews B.A.P had given here. 

She drew herself up to her full height. "I'm here to do my job," she told Kang. "I won't even have any contact with--"

"Good," he interjected coldly. "Go do your job, then." He moved aside to let her pass and she went, chin lifted defiantly. Her eyes met Jongup's for a beat and she flinched, and then she was passing him. 

They all watched her leave, Kang and Yongguk both seething while the others looked on in confusion while the rest of the staff dispersed. 

"Hyung, who _was_ that?" Daehyun demanded in a hushed voice. 

Yongguk ignored him, turning instead to Kang. 

"I thought she was banned?" he said. The manager gave a frustrated shrug. 

"From some of the studios, yeah, but she still works for a lot of the publications," he said grimly. "Sorry, Yongguk-ah. I wanted her gone before you all came out."

"I know her," Youngjae murmured, still staring after her. "I _definitely_ know her from somewhere."

"That's Lee Hyejin, the--reporter--who published the story about Himchan," Kang said. Yongguk gave him a quick, quelling look, but it was too late. Jongup went still and Youngjae had a small silent seizure, grasping Daehyun's shoulders and mouthing _Oh my God_ while jumping up and down. Then he stopped abruptly and turned to Jongup.

"She _knows_ ," he said. 

Jongup didn't stop to ask. The one person who might actually have the answer to the riddle of what the _hell_ Himchan had been thinking was just disappearing around the corner down the hall. 

Jongup took off after her, barely registering Yongguk moving--to stop him? To join him?--and one of the others stopping him.

Jongup didn't stop. Hyejin was just checking an office number against a sheet of paper in her hand. 

"Wait!" Jongup called. She turned back, saw him, and quickened her pace. But she was in a fairly excruciating-looking pair of heels, and Jongup was in boots, and he caught up easily. 

"I'm not supposed to talk to you," she said, holding out a hand as though she thought he might attack her. He stared.

"You know who I am?" he said. She lowered her hand a bit and rolled her eyes. 

"I kept my half of the deal," she snapped. Whatever that meant. Jongup couldn't help thinking she was mistaking him for someone else. 

"You published the story about Kim Himchan two years ago," he said. There was a commotion behind him and he turned to find Yongguk coming after him, a grim look on his face. Jongup turned back hurriedly. "Listen, I just need to know--"

"I kept my half of the deal," the reporter repeated. "I don't even _have_ the pictures anymore; I gave them to Kim."

"Jongup." Yongguk was there, a firm hand gripping the dancer's shoulder. Jongup ignored him.

"What pictures?" he asked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name of Jongup's second brother, Jongin, was taken with permission from my girl Chngminxo, who used it brilliantly in her story Clay Horses. Thanks, doll. <3


	5. Chapter 5

This wasn't supposed to happen. Less than twenty-four hours before, Himchan had begged Yongguk to buy him enough time to figure out how to tell Jongup the truth about what had happened two years ago. It was a huge step, and a welcome one. Yongguk had expected to have to convince his best friend; all the better that he'd reached the decision on his own.

But now the reporter and Jongup were face-to-face. If Yongguk let the woman break the truth to his dongsaeng, he'd never forgive himself.

" _What_ pictures?" the dancer demanded again. 

"Jongup!" Yongguk interrupted. He looked back at him and the rapper realized he had nothing to say. He had a grip on the younger man's shoulder and tried to draw him away.

"Hyung, she knows about Himchan." This from Youngjae, coming up behind him. The others were with him, Kang behind, and _fuck_. Things were rapidly spiraling out of Yongguk's control. 

"Outside, all of you," he practically growled, casting a glare at Daehyun that he knew the younger would interpret as instruction. 

"C'mon, Jae, c'mon Junhongie," the singer said immediately, tugging elbows. Yongguk turned back and fixed the reporter woman with another glare. She scowled right back, then turned on her heel and continued her path down the hallway. Yongguk's heartbeat seemed to find its rhythm again with every step she took. 

He kept a hand on Jongup's shoulder, lest the dancer take off after her again. He could feel him shaking, and then he actually _did_ pull away and Yongguk had to haul him back. 

"Not from her," he said. "You don't--Jonguppie, you don't want to hear it from _her_." He could hear the venom in his own voice. He didn't care if she'd just been doing her job. He'd never forgive her ripping his family apart.

Jongup stopped and looked at him for a beat, then his narrow eyes widened.

"You know what she's talking about," he said. 

Yongguk dropped his hand. "Let's go outside," he said. 

Jongup continued to stare, but he followed him and the others out. Kang sidled over to Yongguk.

"D'you want me to...?" he murmured.

"No, hyung-nim; I'll talk to them, thanks," Yongguk said, ignoring his guilt as he had so many times before. Keeping the truth from his manager was far from his greatest sin these past two years. 

It was dusk as the group left the building to gather in the parking lot between Daehyun and Youngjae's cars. 

Everyone was looking at Yongguk expectantly. He ignored three of them and focused on Jongup.

"What pictures, hyung?" the dancer said quietly.

"You need to talk to Himchan," Yongguk said. He couldn't be the one to break the news now; not when Himchan had been so close and wanted so badly to do it himself.

Not, Yongguk reflected ruefully, that he'd wanted it like _this_.

Jongup stared at him, then turned to Youngjae and held out his hand. The singer didn't hesitate, digging his car keys out of his pocket and dropping them in the dancer's hand.

"You're okay to drive?" he asked.

"Fine," Jongup said shortly. 

They watched him speed out of the parking lot, then three pairs of accusing eyes fell on the rapper.

"So," Youngjae said conversationally. " _What_ pictures?"

**

"Why does your phone keep buzzing?" Hana asked. 

Himchan glanced over from the kitchen sink, where he was up to his elbows in suds, and grimaced. "I keep getting calls for the wrong number. Someone named Woohyun didn't tell people he got a new phone, apparently," he said. 

This was a half-truth at best; he _had_ received a wrong number call for a Woohyun early on. Then he'd gotten a call from a man identifying himself as a reporter. This had been during Himchan's self-imposed hermitage on the couch, and he'd dropped the phone like it had suddenly grown spikes. He'd been ignoring it ever since--just one more thing to figure out later, right behind "how to listen to music without his heart stopping," "how to tell Jongup the truth about everything," and "what to do with the rest of his life."

Next to that, it was no wonder he'd rather cook dinner and wash dishes. And, since he finally dragged himself off the couch, he'd taken over the household shopping. He had the idea he could help more with his niece, too; the previous day's pacifier misadventure notwithstanding, he very much wanted more time with Sangmi.

The baby was currently installed in her high chair next to the counter, and she  babbled happily as Himchan turned her way. He grinned and squeezed a few bubbles out of the bottle of dish soap for her amusement. 

"So," Hana said. She was still dressed from work, though she'd left her heels by the door and didn't look quite her usual dignified self sitting cross-legged on a stool at the kitchen's center island. Himchan wouldn't let her help him cook, but he'd been glad for the company. Keep him from dwelling on...stuff.

"So?" he prompted, drying his hands and lifting the lid on the soup to give it a stir. 

" _So_ ," Hana repeated. "Have you given any more thought to Mina's offer?"

Himchan blinked at her. "How did you even _know_ about that?" He was sure he hadn't mentioned it. Hana rolled her eyes.

"She and I do talk, you know," she said. "She told me all about it; I can't believe you haven't jumped at the chance by now."

Himchan turned back to the sink, busying himself with more dishes. "I'm not sure I'm qualified to teach," he said. 

"That's bullshit."

" _Noona_." Himchan turned to glare at her and cast a pointed look at Sangmi, who just cooed cheerfully while she absorbed their conversation and her mother's terrible speech habits. Hana ignored this. 

"Of _course_ you're qualified. You'd make a great teacher," she said. Himchan made an incredulous noise. "I'm serious! You're--well, I mean you'd care too much what your students thought of you and probably fall all over yourself trying to be their friend, but--"

"Thank you for that vote of confidence."

" _But_ you'd earn their respect because you're fucking _good_ at what you do and they could learn a lot from you. Any kid in that program's going to be the motivated sort, so. I think you should do it. You have to do _something_ ; you can't sleep on our couch forever."

"I've been trying to help out," Himchan protested, but his sister waved his words away.

"I mean you have to do something for _you_ ," she said. "Don't get me wrong, the cooking is amazing, and of course I love having you here." (This last she said very crisply as though to ward off any possibility of emotion. Himchan smiled at her fondly. What a lovely, sensible creature his noona was.) "But you won't be happy playing house for long."

This was hard to argue with. But Himchan wasn't sure how to put into words how unnerving it was to be unanchored this way. For two years he'd had his life scheduled out for him from morning to night. He went where he was told and did as ordered. And idol life had been no different, really. For the first time he was on his own. He could do anything. 

The freedom was terrifying.

Hana was still talking. "People need to be moving forward, they need _purpose_ , Himchan-ah, and--"

"I'll call Mina tomorrow," he interrupted. Hana stopped mid-speech. 

"Really?"

"Yes." He smiled a little. 

She squinted at him. "You just said you weren't qualified?"

Himchan found a clean dish towel and began drying utensils. "I'm probably not. But I don't know much about it yet, either. You're right, it won't hurt to talk to her some more." 

Privately, he thought there was a good chance he'd fall flat on his face and fail if he tried. But his sister was right; he had to do _something_.

He had spent most of the night awake and stewing over Jongup, playing out scenarios in his mind, thinking through all the different ways he could tell him the truth. He'd finally fallen into a thin restless sleep a few hours before dawn.

Somehow, though, he'd woken up refreshed and hopeful, with the idea that he could actually do this. He could fix things with Jongup. Jongup _wanted_ him to fix things. The thought made Himchan feel light, giddy. Like maybe the future wasn't the bleak wasteland he'd spent two years imagining for himself.

"Well," Hana said now, clearly casting around for more advice she could dispense. Himchan tried not to smirk; it was always kind of entertaining to take the wind out of her sails when she got all _sage noona imparting wisdom_ on him.

Before she could find her verbal footing, however, there was a knock at the door. Hana sighed and uncrossed her legs. Himchan heard her knees pop as she stood. 

"Hold that thought," she said, leaving the kitchen.

Himchan took the leftover beef out of the fridge to add to the soup, crouching in front of Sangmi's high chair briefly on the way to let her pat his cheeks with one chubby fist. 

"Himchan?" 

He stood as Hana entered the kitchen. She looked anxious all of a sudden and Himchan was about to ask what was wrong, but then he saw Jongup behind her, his mouth in a thin line. 

"You have company," Hana said needlessly. She motioned for the container of meat he'd forgotten he was holding. "Go on, I can finish cooking." 

Himchan meant to protest--Jongup had helped him cook the night before, after all--but come to think of it the younger man was looking awfully tense. 

"Hi, Jongup-ah," he said, smiling at him anyway. "Are you hungry?"

"No thanks," Jongup said, casting an uneasy look at Hana's back. 

"Or do you want a drink, or--"

"No," Jongup said again shortly. "Can we go outside?"

They did. Himchan's heart was pounding a rough rhythm in his chest. He wondered how long it would take him to get used to the reality of Jongup again. Every nerve ending came alive in his presence; Himchan's body felt like it was being pulled taut enough to snap.

"How was the interview?" he asked. 

"It was. I dunno. Fine," Jongup said. He was shifting from foot to foot but not in the nervous way he often had. He looked ready to snap himself. The dancer met his eyes. "Lee Hyejin was there," he said. "In the office when we got out."

The image of a thick pair of glasses sheltering cool eyes swam through Himchan's memory. He went cold at the sound of the reporter's name on Jongup's lips. 

"Oh," he said.

"She said something about pictures," Jongup said. 

The wire holding Himchan together snapped. He turned away from the younger man, trying to remember how to breathe. His chest was a vacuum, suddenly; his lungs couldn't seem to get enough oxygen--

_Fucking just_ stop _for a minute_. Kyung's voice came to him and he breathed. Counted. Breathed. 

"Oh," he said again when he was able. "Said what about pictures?"

"She said--she said she didn't have them anymore, that she gave them to you. At first I didn't think she knew who I was, but then she said that--and it seemed like Yongguk hyung knew what she was talking about--" Jongup's face was screwed up in confusion and _fuck_. 

_Time's up, Ugly._

"Sit down?" Himchan invited, settling onto the step and motioning for Jongup to join him. Hard to believe they'd been here just 24 hours ago. Himchan thought he'd have more time to think this through, but clearly the universe had other ideas. 

Jongup sat beside him, facing him, eyes searching his face. 

"Jongup-ah, there's--some stuff I never told you," Himchan said. He wished the dancer hadn't turned down that drink; he could have used one himself. His mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. 

Jongup just waited. Himchan took a shaky breath.

"You remember our album release party just before I left?" he said. Jongup nodded. "You remember Hyejin was there with Mina?" Jongup's eyes narrowed and he nodded again. Himchan had to swallow hard before he could continue. "And. You remember. Us. Upstairs." He couldn't continue; ghost hands were suddenly clutching his hips, his shirt. He could recall exactly the sheen of sweat on Jongup's face, the feel of his hair in Himchan's hands, his reluctant gasps for breath between kisses.

Jongup colored a bit and Himchan could see he was remembering the same things. Then his eyes widened and Himchan could see the pieces click into place.

"Pictures," the dancer breathed. 

"Yeah," Himchan said quietly. He waited, took in the younger man's horrified expression. "You sure you don't want that drink?"

**

The album release party had been an exceptionally _drunk_ night, but Jongup still remembered it clearly.

How good Himchan had looked. How _happy_ , like _really_ happy for the first time in a long time. Composing for the album had meant everything to him, and Jongup had been so proud it hurt, like the way his cheeks hurt after laughing for too long. 

He'd spent the first half of the party separated from the others; they'd been scattered across the club, surrounded by the kind of industry goons Jongup hated. But he'd managed to keep Himchan in his line of sight almost the whole time. He could still remember the way his skin had glowed against the black of his shirt, the way his smile lit up whichever corner of the room he was in. 

He'd seen his eyes scanning the crowd every so often--looking for _him,_ he knew. He'd been content to let him look. He found him later with the others--and now he felt his mouth twist in a scowl as his memory filled in the form of Lee Hyejin in the room with them. He'd barely noticed her at the time. Himchan had been _looking_ at him in a not-very-careful way, the way he'd tried not to look at him in public. But this had just been with the members, with Hana, with Mina. They were safe.

They should have been safe.

Still later, he'd caught the look in Himchan's eyes while he watched him dance. There was no way they'd last until they got back to the dorm. He'd taken the first chance he could to drag Himchan upstairs with him and press him against the wall...

He pressed his hands to his temples as though he could rub the thoughts away, but they kept coming. How smooth Himchan's skin was under his hands. The small sounds he'd make when they kissed. How much Jongup had wanted him, all the time. 

Still wanted.

Everything felt all swirly, past and present mixing up his head and his feelings. He'd thought he was done with all this, but now it seemed that all this time his feelings had only been lying dormant under the surface. They'd only needed Himchan's presence to stir them back into wakefulness. 

He wondered if Himchan shared his perfect recall of that night. It was hard to look at him with these particular memories swimming through his mind, but he made himself do it.

"Tell me," he said. The older man was staring fixedly down at his feet. He had the chain with his ring out and was playing with it in an apparently unconscious way. Jongup wanted to take his hand, but felt like if he let go of his own head it would burst like an overfilled balloon. 

"She showed them to me at the interview, the one I did alone," Himchan said. "She was gonna publish them either way, but she had some big idea about working with us to _tell our story_ in our own words." His voice was bitter. "She gave me 24 hours to think about it."

Jongup remembered that night, too. They had had dinner with Himchan's parents, and he had been withdrawn and distant the whole time. Jongup had assumed it was due to the rift that had formed in the family, had written it off to Himchan's continued anger at his mother over her reaction to their relationship. 

"So I thought about it," Himchan continued. "And the only way out I could see was to give her something else to write about. So I got more of the pills and gave her that story in exchange for the pictures and a written agreement she'd never write anything about them."

Jongup went hot suddenly. "The only way out... _you_ could see," he managed. He stood up, unable to be still. Walked a short ways out into Hana's narrow backyard, staring unseeingly out into the deepening twilight, then turned back. "How could you not tell me this?" he demanded. "This wasn't-- _fuck_ , Himchan--this wasn't just about _you_ ; how could you keep this from me?"

Himchan stood up too. "I was trying to protect you," he said. 

The fury came on in such a rush Jongup felt sick. He had to lean over, put his hands on his knees like he was out of breath. 

"Protect me," he repeated. He let his head drop, unable to look at Himchan. "Pro _tect_ me."

" _Yes_." Himchan sounded a little confused. It didn't help with the anger thing. Jongup stood up straight and glared at him. 

"And who asked you to do that?" he snapped. 

"No one had to _ask_ me to; it's what I _do_ ," Himchan said, clearly baffled now. "Did, I mean. It's what I always did."

"You get why that's a problem for me, right?" Jongup asked. He was really trying to control his anger but this challenge was apparently beyond him because he wanted to shake Himchan until his teeth rattled.

The older man just looked at him blankly. Jongup was actually going to have to spell it out for him. 

"You weren't supposed to protect me," he said. "Not like this; it's not supposed to be a one-way thing. We're--I was supposed to be your _partner_." He meant to sound angry, but his words sounded sad instead--sad and pleading and small. 

Incredibly, Himchan was shaking his head in disagreement. "You can't expect me to not want to shield you from this," he insisted. "Do you have any idea what would've happened if she'd published those photos?"

"I have as good an idea as you did!" This time, the anger came out. "If you'd have just _told_ me we could have figured it out together."

Himchan sighed. "You wouldn't've let me do it if I told you before," he said in a low voice. 

Well, this, at least, Jongup could agree with.

"No shit."

"So what would've happened?" Himchan pressed. "To us? If everyone suddenly knew about us, do you think the company would have supported us? For all we know, they would've turned around and said it was strike two against _you_ , since you were already on probation, and _you_ would've been kicked out of the group. No way I'd ever risk that. At the very _least_ they'd separate us as much as possible. It was hard enough going around in secret, do you honestly think we could've made it if all eyes were on us suddenly?"

"You still should've told me," Jongup said stubbornly, though Himchan's argument had deflated him a bit. "Even if you'd told me after the article--I would've been pissed but--did you ever even want to break up?"

Himchan stared at him. There was a long pause wherein Jongup could feel each beat of his heart in his chest. Then Himchan shook his head slowly. 

Jongup's knees felt watery. He managed to get back to the step to sit down, and put his head between his knees. After a minute, he heard Himchan settle gingerly beside him. He touched Jongup's back lightly, rubbed a soothing pattern. Jongup barely felt the pressure; his mind was too busy doing gymnastics as he made room for this new information.

He had known something was wrong in those last days before Hyejin's article came out. Of course he hadn't realized until after that the interview had been the cause. There had been so much else going on, with the new album, everything with Himchan's parents...Jongup hadn't known enough to connect the dots. 

All he'd known was that Himchan held him absurdly tight at night, that he hardly seemed to be _there_ during the day, and wouldn't say why. 

He must have been so scared.

For the first time, sympathy crowded in next to Jongup's anger. He lifted his head and looked at Himchan. 

Himchan, who'd never wanted to leave him. 

This complicated things a bit.

"I really wish you hadn't done that," he told him quietly. Himchan's hand stilled and he withdrew it. As he did, Jongup realized this was the first time the older man had touched him since their initial greeting in Yongguk's apartment. 

"Yeah," Himchan said, looking away. "But I did."

They were silent for a time. Jongup ached. The idea of Himchan going through this alone caused him an almost physical pain. 

At the same time, though. He couldn't get past the thought that his boyfriend had treated him not as a partner but as a _child_. That even after all they'd been through, Himchan had seen him not as a source of comfort and support, but as someone to be sheltered and protected from the truth at all costs.

Something new occurred to him.

"Yongguk hyung knew," he said, meaning it to be a question, but hearing the finality of the statement as it came out. "When she mentioned the pictures, he said--he said I didn't want to hear it from her. He knew, didn't he."

Himchan hesitated long enough for Jongup to see the truth before he nodded. 

Aaaaand his old friend Anger was back. 

"You told Yongguk and didn't tell me," he said. He stood up again. There was a bitter taste in his mouth. "I really was just one of the kids to you, wasn't I?"

Himchan rose. "That's not--"

"You told. Yongguk. Instead of me," Jongup said. Every muscle in his body felt coiled tight as a spring. He didn't know what was worse; that his boyfriend--the man he'd thought was the love of his fucking _life_ \--hadn't trusted him enough to tell him; had instead told his best friend. Or the fact that Yongguk had been lying to his face for two years. He'd seen what Jongup had gone through after Himchan left, and he'd said nothing. Jongup felt sick.

Himchan seemed to sense this. "I swore him to secrecy," he said quickly.

So he was protecting Yongguk rather than understanding why it had been the wrong thing to do. Jongup felt a nauseating swoop of jealousy and pushed it away. 

"Well. I guess I'm glad you did it, then," he said, his words clipped and furious. "I used to think sometimes that you just saw me as a kid, and this fucking proves it. You were right to let us break up because we never would have lasted."

Himchan looked like he'd slapped him and Jongup was glad. 

"Jongup--"

" _Stop_ , Himchan." He'd heard more than enough. "You didn't trust me," he said. It stung to admit it out loud. "I guess that's fair, though, because...I love you, but I don't trust _you_ , either."

Himchan looked stunned--whether from the first half of Jongup's statement or the second, the dancer didn't know. He hadn't exactly meant to say it, but both halves were true. All of his old feelings were still there. He'd buried and ignored them for two years, but they never went away.

They didn't make up for what Himchan had done. 

"I'm gonna go," Jongup said quietly. "I need to go." Himchan's brow creased and he looked down quickly, nodded. 

"Will you come back?" he asked. "After..." He didn't finish the thought but Jongup could fill in the blank easily enough. After he'd had time to think, to process. 

To _get over it_. 

He hesitated, then said finally, "I don't know."

**

Daehyun's car was silent. This was possibly unprecedented, as Daehyun was currently in it. With Youngjae. And Junhong. 

Well, and Yongguk, but his silence was to be expected. Apparently, silence was even more his _thing_ than Daehyun had realized.

Not that he was bitter about it. 

With Jongup off in Youngjae's car, the four remaining members had piled into Daehyun's, and listened as Yongguk told them the truth about Himchan and the reporter who had essentially blackmailed him. 

This was upsetting news for many reasons, not the least of which was that  it meant Youngjae had been on the right track with all his damn conspiracy theories. He'd be even more impossible now. 

Daehyun met his eyes in the rearview mirror and they exchanged a series of looks that went something like 

**CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS?!**

_YES BECAUSE I TOLD YOU SO_

**UGH SHUT UP YOU _WOULD_ BRING THAT UP AT A TIME LIKE THIS**

Youngjae kicked the back of Daehyun's seat. 

"So--the whole time," he spoke up. "Jongup thought--but really Himchan did it _for_ \--I'm--"

Under normal circumstances, Daehyun would have relished his best friend's sudden verbal difficulties. But these weren't normal circumstances. 

He wondered how Jongup would take the news. He didn't know if he was more worried about the dancer or about Himchan. He had a hunch Jongup wasn't going to react well. He rarely got truly angry, but the times he did were always...memorable. 

"Yeah," Yongguk said simply. 

"That's...huh." Youngjae trailed off. He looked from Daehyun in the mirror to Junhong, on the seat beside him. The maknae had a dark, inward look on his face, like the one he got while he was writing.  He always felt a little unapproachable to Daehyun in those moments, and he did now. 

The singer glanced over at Yongguk, who was looking out the window. The casual observer might have thought he was lost in peaceful thought, but Daehyun caught the rigid line of his shoulders and knew better.

Under normal circumstances, he'd have made a joke to bring his hyung back to the group, make him smile, set him at ease. 

These weren't normal circumstances.

Youngjae kicked the back of his seat again.

"Right," Daehyun said, coming back to life as abruptly as a wind-up toy, turning the key in the ignition. "Home."

**

Jongup parked Youngjae's car in its usual spot outside the dorm. The building looked different than it had that morning, somehow. 

His legs felt heavy as he went inside. His _head_ felt heavy; filled to the brim with new information he hadn't been ready for. 

His chest was in chaos, mistrust battling fury and grief, everything teaming up to crush the tiny spark of light that appeared when he realized _Himchan had never wanted to leave him._

"For all the good _that_ does me," he muttered dully, punching his floor's button in the elevator. 

Part of him couldn't believe he'd actually walked away. From Himchan. From _Himchan_. 

The rest of him was coolly listing off a half dozen ways he could probably kill the older man with his bare hands and challenging him to come up with a single reason to ever trust him again. 

The tiny spark of light couldn't possibly last long under such assault.

He let himself into the dorm and let the stillness wash over him. The dorm was seldom quiet, even with only four of them. Normally he'd have relished his solitude, but now the small apartment felt airless and crushing. He wavered in the doorway for a moment, undecided, then made a beeline for his room. He changed out of his stupid interview outfit and into jeans and a sweatshirt, grabbed some extra cash, and left the dorm.

** 

In the end, the four of them didn't return to the dorm right away after all. They were close, but then Junhong's stomach gave a growl Yongguk could hear from the front seat. 

It broke the tension somewhat, cracking them up, and Daehyun changed course for a noodle place they all liked. They grabbed their favorite table in the corner and the dongsaengs ordered what Yongguk secretly considered an obscene amount of food. Junhong did most of the talking, chattering away about nothing much. Yongguk could see Youngjae was itching to ask another hundred questions, but the maknae's light conversation held him at bay for the moment.

Daehyun was quiet. He wouldn't make eye contact with Yongguk. Nor did he speak the entire drive back to the dorm after they'd finished their meal. When he pulled into the lot, he finally said without turning, "I'll drop you home, hyung. Unless you're coming up?"

Yongguk hesitated. In truth, he badly wanted to retreat to his apartment. The interview, the horrible moment with the reporter in the hallway, Jongup's stony face as he drove away, the others' incomprehension as he finally admitted the truth...It had been a lot, and he was spent.

But Jongup would be home eventually, and Yongguk needed to be sure he was okay. Or as close to okay as he could possibly be. 

"I'll come up," he said, unhooking his seatbelt. "I should talk to Jonguppie."

"Right." Daehyun's voice was terse and Yongguk winced inwardly. Jongup wasn't the only one he needed to talk to. 

He wondered how Himchan was doing. He had tried texting him, repeatedly, to warn him that Jongup was on his way, but he'd received no response. For all he knew Himchan hadn't even seen the messages. 

"Hyung?" Junhong called, kicking off his shoes as they entered the dorm. The very silent, clearly empty dorm. 

"Guess he's not back yet," Youngjae said after a pause. He looked at Yongguk. "Do you think that's a good sign?"

The rapper just shrugged. He could hope, but it was a little hard to imagine the dancer taking the news well. 

In any case, he had to let it go. Himchan and Jongup were a force unto themselves; Yongguk had seen enough in the week since Himchan's return to believe this hadn't changed. Whatever happened now would be between the two of them.

"Would it kill you guys to keep some of your shoes in the closet?" Daehyun snapped. He'd gathered up an armful of shoes from the heap inside the front door. "I trip over them every time I come home."

"Half of them are yours," Youngjae reminded him calmly. "But sure, we'll put some away. C'mon, Junhongie."

His best friend's easy acquiescence seemed to unsettle Daehyun, though for once Yongguk didn't think that was Youngjae's intention. The elder vocalist let the maknae take his armload of the shoes to deposit them in what was probably an equally haphazard pile in the closet. 

"Oh. Good, then. Thanks," Daehyun said. He glanced around, apparently at a loss, and his eyes met Yongguk's for a beat. The younger looked away quickly. "I'll--put some of mine in my room," he muttered to no one in particular. He grabbed another bunch of shoes from the dwindling mountain and retreated to his room. Yongguk sighed and followed. 

The singer tossed the shoes into the corner of his room carelessly and gave a small jump when he turned around and saw Yongguk leaning inside the doorway. 

"Do we need to talk about this?" the rapper asked. Daehyun didn't demur, didn't beat around the bush. 

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" he said. "I thought--I kind of thought we'd gotten to the point where you...would've."

Yongguk sighed, stuffed his hands in his pockets. "It wasn't mine to tell."

"How can you say that, though? Himchan hyung leaving affected _all_ of us. And you're the leader, so--"

"I couldn't tell you and not tell Jongup," Yongguk said. "And it definitely wasn't my place to tell him."

"So you agree with what Himchan did?" Daehyun pressed. Yongguk paused. 

"It's not--"

"Don't say it's not your place," Daehyun said peevishly. "You're allowed to have an opinion, hyung."

Yongguk shuffled his feet. "I dunno," he said at last. "It was an impossible situation. He tried to do the right thing. His intention was good, shouldn't that count for something?"

He didn't mean it rhetorically. Daehyun's expression softened a little.

"I guess it does," he said. "But I don't know if Jongup'll see it that way."

Junhong slipped in the room beside Yongguk, his expression troubled. 

"What's up, Junhongie?" Daehyun asked. Yongguk fought the urge to brush the maknae's hair out of his eyes. It was getting too long again.

"Jongup-hyung texted me," Junhong said. "He's not coming home tonight."

**

It was less than an hour by train. There was no excuse for how rarely Jongup made the trip. 

He tried to play a game on his phone during the ride, but the third time he died because he'd completely zoned out and missed the zombie coming up behind his avatar, he tucked his phone away and just _stewed._

He remembered the building, realizing only as he was pressing the buzzer than he probably should have called ahead. For all he knew, no one would be home and he'd have wasted the trip.

These worries had barely begun to take root, though, when the intercom squawked and a familiar voice said hello.

"It's me," Jongup said. 

A long pause, then a sharp buzz as he was admitted to the building. 

He rode the elevator up (he had to double check the apartment number on his phone) and knocked on the door lightly. It was thrown open a second later. 

" _You_ ," Jonghwan said. 

"Me," Jongup agreed tiredly. "Hi, hyung." 

His brother narrowed his eyes a bit but stood back to let him in. 

Jongup had only been to Jonghwan's apartment a few times, but it was instantly familiar in its mess. The eldest Moon brother had apparently inherited all of the cleaning genes in the family, leaving Jonghwan and Jongup bereft. Oh well. Jongup crawled onto a vaguely couch-shaped pile of laundry and curled himself around a stack of discarded hoodies. 

A moment later there was a hand on his cheek, then forehead. He grimaced up at his brother. 

"Are you sick or something?" Jonghwan asked. Jongup shrugged.

"No," he muttered. "Yes. I dunno."

His hyung's frown deepened. People said the two of them looked alike, but Jongup couldn't see it. Jonghwan was better-looking, for starters. He had that whole sensitive-poet thing going for him. He was the quietest of the three brothers--which was exactly why Jongup had come to him. He wasn't ready to answer questions yet. 

"Do you want me to call Yongguk-hyung?" Jonghwan said. Jongup's head snapped up.

" _No_ ," he said. His brother blinked, and Jongup put his head down again, too tired to hold onto his anger at the rapper. "Just. Can I stay here awhile?"

"How long's awhile?"

"Let's start with tonight, at least."

Jonghwan shrugged and slung his legs over the back of the clothes-couch, sliding down to sit on top of Jongup's feet; a comforting weight.

"Okay," he said. Reluctantly, after a beat: "D'you wanna talk?"

"Definitely not."

More cheerfully: "D'you wanna play video games?"

Some of Jongup's fatigue faded and he lifted his head a bit. "Whatcha got?"


	6. Chapter 6

Himchan's hands wouldn't stop shaking. He flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette--his third in the 30 minutes since Jongup had left; so much for quitting now that he was home--and clenched his free hand into a fist. 

Tried to breathe. Tried to count.

Jongup knew the truth.

Jongup _loved_ him--present tense, he'd said. 

He'd left him anyway.

Himchan supposed he had that coming.

"Hey." He turned to find his sister in the doorway behind him. "There's food," she offered. "Sanghun just got home..."

Himchan tried to smile. "I'm not really hungry."

Hana stepped outside, pulling her cardigan tighter around herself and closing the sliding door before settling on the step beside him. 

"What happened?"

Himchan stubbed out his cigarette. "He found out about the pictures. He found out I lied."

"Oh." Hana wove her arm through Himchan's and rested her head on his shoulder. "He didn't take it so well, huh."

Himchan couldn't stop picturing Jongup's face--hurt, agonized, furious. "I'm pretty sure he'll never speak to me again," he said, testing out the idea. He'd spent two years convinced of the same thing; you'd think by now he'd be used to it. But the thought still sent something sharp careening around the hollow of his chest, and it hurt every bit as much as ever. 

"Give him some time," Hana offered. Himchan gave a hoarse laugh.

"Sure," he said. 

She looked at him, but he couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes. Couldn't stand to be so _known_ , suddenly. His very existence felt toxic. He couldn't remember why he'd ever thought it a good idea to come home. He was a leech on his sister and her family. He'd only managed to hurt Jongup more, which shouldn't have even been possible. Plus he was pretty sure Jongup was angry at Yongguk now, too. Yongguk, who had only ever tried to help. None of them deserved this. 

He cleared his throat. "I'll be inside in a little while, okay?" 

Hana sighed and slipped her arm free. "We'll keep a plate warm for you."

"Thanks, noona."

She left him alone.

He tried to breathe. Tried to count.

He tugged his phone out of his pocket and texted Yongguk a mess of apologies, asking him to tell him when Jongup made it home safe. He'd been so upset when he left...

He scrolled unseeingly through his phone, pulling up apps and shutting them down when none of them provided the time travel he actually needed. Finally, he pulled up one of the handful of contacts in his address book and dialed. 

"What. is. _up_ , sir."

"Can I still come crash with you?" Himchan blurted out. Kyung was silent a minute.

"Shit, Kim, you could at least buy me flowers first," he drawled. Himchan let out an impatient breath. 

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," he grumbled. "Hello, how are you."

"Aren't you a peach to ask after little old me," Kyung said, but with just a fraction of his usual sass. "What's wrong, then?"

"Nothing." Himchan looked at his cigarettes longingly, then stuffed the pack back in his pocket. "Well, I mean. Everything is terrible and I don't know what I'm doing here, so I thought I'd come see you."

The idea made him feel lighter already. Kyung's place was close to the beach and Himchan could swim every day. He could find a job doing...something, who even cared; the point was, Kyung didn't know all the stupid shit Himchan had done because he'd never told him. He wouldn't have to remember it every time he looked at him. 

His friend was quiet again. "Sorry," he said at last. "But hell no."

"Uh?" Himchan blinked. "What?"

"I said _no_ ," Kyung repeated. 

"You already invited me," Himchan reminded him, irritable now. 

"Yeah and you fucking said no. Anyways, that was then and this is now, and _now_ is you sounding all despondent and shit and the whole thing smacks of running away."

Himchan rested his forehead on his knees.

"Well, you're not wrong," he said quietly. 

"So what happened? You didn't get anyone pregnant did you?"

Himchan snorted. "I wish."

Kyung let out a low whistle. "Must be serious. You're really not gonna tell me?"

Himchan hesitated. He trusted Kyung. He knew things about Himchan even Jongup and Yongguk didn't.

He thought of his mother two years ago, the dawning horror on her face when Himchan told her he was in love. Trust could be misplaced.

Hell, just ask Jongup.

"Can this just be one of those things?" he asked.

"What things."

"Those _things_ that we don't talk about because to talk about it would be to cross a line with no hope of safe return?"

Kyung made a rude sound and Himchan rolled his eyes. "Think Yang in the shower," he said. 

"Oh, one of _those_ things. Gross. Say no more," the other man said. Himchan heard the metallic flick that could only mean Kyung was lighting a cigarette. Fuck it. Himchan pulled out another for himself and they smoked in distant but companionable silence for a minute.

"Everything sucks here, too," Kyung said. "You know. If that helps."

It kind of did.

*

There were whispers somewhere behind him. Jongup tried to ignore them, burrowing down deeper in the pile of clothes he'd been nesting in for two days. Laundry was a seriously underrated mattress, he thought. He liked the feeling of being wrapped up, like he was being spooned. Himchan used to--

**STOP STOP STOP**

He grimaced and pulled a sweatshirt over his head.

"How long has he been like this?"

"Couple days."

"And you only called me _now_?"

"I thought he'd snap out of it on his own and we wouldn't need you."

An aggrieved sigh, and then an abrupt pressure as Jongup felt a body stretch out on his own. He let out a protesting groan. 

"Oh my god, Jonghwan, your laundry-- _it's ALIIIIVE_!"

Jongup peeled the sweatshirt away from his face to blink grumpily up at his eldest brother. Jongin's mask of tragedy gave way to a sunny smile.

"Oops, false alarm, it's just our baby brother," he said, pinching Jongup's cheek gently. "What's up, Up?"

"What are you doing here," Jongup grumbled. He caught sight of Jonghwan hovering nearby, chewing on a thumbnail. When their eyes met, Jonghwan dropped to the floor out of sight. Jongup could hear him crawling away to the kitchen on his hands and knees. Typical. His brother was the most conflict-averse person he knew. 

"Jongie tells me you've been doing your best potato impression," Jongin said.

"Potato?"

"Vegetable," Jongin clarified. "As in, not moving. As in, basically catatonic. And refusing to talk, which is also something vegetables are known for."

The eldest Moon brother was more round-faced than his dongsaengs, making him look no older than the other two, despite the extra six years he had on Jongup. He was the loudest of the three, the tidiest, the most outgoing. 

By far the most annoying.

Jongup buried his face again. "Vegetables are cool," he mumbled. "Go away."

"Jonguppiiiiie."

He tried to shrug him off, but really didn't have the leverage and Jongin didn't budge. But Jongup could match him in stubbornness, and soon he gave up trying to get rid of him. He could live like this quite happily forever, he felt. No need to move, or struggle, or think. 

In time, Jongin went away. 

In more time, Jongup slept.

When he woke again, the light was strange, filtered. He poked his head out of its burrow and looked up. 

There was a blanket stretched out half a meter above him. He blinked a few times and raised his head higher to peer around at the blanket fort that had been built around him while he slept.

This did not bode well.

Before he could retreat back into his hole, one hand grasped his ankle and another his arm, and he found himself being wrestled to the floor between his hyungs.

"Good morning again," Jongin said cheerily. "Want some pancake?"

On his other side, Jonghwan held out a plate wordlessly. Jongup glowered at him--the traitor, bringing in Jongin--but tugged a hunk off the pancake. Jonghwan was an excellent cook. 

"So, here we are," Jongin said, leaning against Jongup, while Jonghwan crowded in on his other side. He rolled his eyes and continued chewing. "The Moon brothers, together under one roof. The roof of _truth_ , Jonguppie."

The dancer took more pancake. As long as he was chewing, he couldn't be expected to talk. 

But Jongin had a point. The Moon brothers had a lifelong habit of holding serious conversations in blanket forts--and nowhere else, really. They'd been crafty to build it around him. 

"So," Jongin said. Jongup reached for more food but Jonghwan held the plate out of reach, giving him a reproving look.

"Talk first," he said. 

Jongup slumped. There was a loose thread on the hem of his shirt; he twisted it around his index finger a few times. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Nothing," Jongin repeated. "You're camped for days on Jongie's couch, avoiding your life and Yongguk's calls for _no reason_. That definitely sounds true."

Jonghwan slung his legs over Jongup's in a supportive kind of way. 

"C'mon, Uppie," Jongin said, more gently. "What's going on, kid?"

He hadn't told them. Oh, he'd come close; just before Himchan left, they'd been almost ready to tell his hyungs about their relationship. He'd started dreaming up different ways to say it, imagining alternate scenarios.

Then Himchan was gone suddenly, and Jongup couldn't get out of bed. All of his daydreams about telling his hyungs had been _happy_ ones where he did it with Himchan at his side. He couldn't bear to tell them what he'd had, and what he'd lost.

Now he didn't know what he had, or what he wanted. Mostly, he wanted not to think. That shouldn't be too much to ask. 

He took a breath and looked around. As always, it was a comfort to be sheltered by blankets and pillows and his brothers. He could say things here he couldn't say anywhere else.

"Himchan hyung's back," he said quietly. 

There was a pause. "Oh yeah, I guess it's about that time, huh?" Jongin said. Jongup just nodded. "How is it seeing him again?"

Jongup just shrugged. He could sense his hyungs exchanging a glance around him. 

"It must be weird," Jonghwan ventured in his soft voice. "Having him around but not part of the group."

The thread was cutting off Jongup's circulation. He watched with detached interest as his fingertip turned red, then purple, now almost blue. 

"Yeah."

"Did you guys have a fight or something?" Jongin asked. Jongup gave a half shrug, unraveled the thread and began to wrap it around another finger, feeling the prickles in his index finger as blood began to flow again.

"Kind of."

His brothers waited, then Jongin gave an impatient sigh. "Uppie, do we have to beat it out of you?" he said exasperatedly. Jongup snorted.

"Like you could," he muttered. Jonghwan was a willowy type; for someone who liked food as much as he did, he'd always had an insane metabolism and had retained a somewhat insubstantial figure into adulthood. Jongin was more solid, but he couldn't come close to matching Jongup's strength, the dancer was sure.

"Hey, two against one, I like our odds. Especially with you all depressed like this," Jongin said, unoffended.

Jongup shrugged again. "We sort of--" he began, then stopped, unsure how to continue. How to possibly say what he had to say. He imagined Himchan really was at his side, giving him that little _go on, Jonguppie_ nod that he used to do during interviews, and for a second the image bolstered his courage. "He told me some stuff the other night. About why he really left. He lied, and Yongguk hyung knew and he's been lying all this time too, and--" He stopped again, already exhausted. It was too much to possibly explain now.

"Why he really left?" Jongin repeated. "It wasn't that article about the drugs?"

Jongup shifted uncomfortably. As one, his brothers pressed against his sides comfortingly. 

"No," he said. "The reporter who wrote that article kind of...blackmailed him. He just gave her that story so she wouldn't write about the other thing."

"Shit," Jonghwan commented.

"What was the other thing?" Jongin asked. Jongup shook his head mutely. "C'mon, Uppie. We're not gonna change our opinion of Himchan if that's what you're worried about. Well, I mean unless he deserves it."

Jongin and Jonghwan had never known the members as well as Jongup would have liked, but they'd all met over the years. They'd seen more of Himchan than anyone else during the hiatus, though, because the older man would never let it go too long without arranging a hangout. He had often invited Jongin or Jonghwan out with them if they were around when he came by, but Jongup had always communicated in no uncertain non-verbal terms with his hyungs that they weren't actually welcome. He got plenty of time with both of them, but his nights out with Himchan had always seemed to end too quickly.

God, he'd been so oblivious. Jongup wondered what might have happened if he'd recognized his stomach-flips for what they were during the hiatus. All those dinners alone, away from the other members and daily schedules and cameras and managers. They could have had so much more time. Everything might have been different.

**fuck stop why are you thinking about this STOP**

"Maybe we can guess," Jonghwan spoke up quietly, smiling a little. Jongin clapped. 

" _Yes_ , that's a _brilliant_ idea!" he exclaimed. 

"You can't guess," Jongup said grumpily, eyeing the plate of pancake, just out of reach. Jonghwan caught him looking and wiggled his eyebrows at him solemnly. 

"Bet we can," he said. 

"How much?" Jongup demanded. It was always easy to get Jonghwan to put money on the simplest wager. 

"No betting," Jongin cut in. "You still owe me from last time, Jongie."

"I do no--"

"This is about Jonguppie, anyway." Jongin fixed Jongup with his darkest glare, which was less intimidating than it was cute. "Either you tell us what's wrong, or we guess, or we can call Eomma."

Jongup glared back at him. "You're not calling Eomma."

"You're freaking me out," Jongin said plainly. "I'm serious, Jongup-ah, you need to talk to us now."

Jongup shifted again. His stomach curdled unpleasantly. But he had known, hadn't he, that coming here might lead to this moment. 

"The reporter had some pictures of me and Himchan hyung," he said finally. His brothers were very still beside him. "From the 2nd album release party. Upstairs, like...kissing and stuff." He said this last very fast. He felt sure his face must be giving off smoke it felt so warm. 

Jongin and Jonghwan were silent. 

"Kissing and stuff," Jongin repeated slowly. "You and...Himchan. Um. On--like, on purpose?"

Jonghwan let out a snicker that he turned into a very unconvincing cough. 

"Yeah," Jongup said simply. 

"But..." Jongin's brow was deeply furrowed. "Like the way you just...kiss your friends, right?"

"What exactly do you get up to with _your_ friends, hyung?" Jonghwan leaned around Jongup to ask. He didn't wait for an answer. "Don't be a sore loser. That's 10000 won." He held out a hand expectantly and Jongin tried to bat it away.

"I'm not giving you money, you owe me twice that! At best I'll take it off your tab."

Jonghwan subsided, still looking smug. Jongup stared from him to Jongin and back again.

"What?"

"I bet him like three? Four? years ago that you had a crush on Himchan," Jonghwan said carelessly. He looked supremely pleased with himself. 

"You _what_?"

"I was riiiight," his hyung sang softly, high-fiving himself. 

Well. _He_ didn't seem horrified, at least. Jongup chanced a look at his eldest brother, who still looked like he was doing complex math problems in his head. 

"This is--I'm just--" he said, then caught Jongup's eye. "Tell us everything," he said. Jongup grimaced.

"It's a pretty long story."

Jongin reached over him to grab the plate of food, which he placed on Jongup's belly.  He broke off a piece of pancake.

"We're not going anywhere," he said.

**

**Then**

**

"Are you going out at all today?"

Jongup frowned and glanced away from the screen and the gangsters he was in the middle of shooting to see Jongin leaning in the doorway.

"When did you get here?" he asked, turning his eyes back to his game. His parents and Jonghwan were all gone at work and he had the house to himself, or so he'd thought.

"I've always been here," Jongin said grandly. 

"Ha. Seriously." 

"Eomma called me; she's worried you're depressed because all you want to do is play video games. I told her that's totally normal for you and has she ever _met_ you, and she hung up on me. So you have to tell her I came by to check on you so she likes me again."

Jongup snorted, smiling a little. Their mother and Jongin drove each other crazy. Everyone had figured it would be better when Jongin got his own place, but they still seemed to go out of their way to annoy each other--in a loving and not-quite-serious way, of course.

"So, are you?" his hyung continued, perching on the back of the couch next to him. 

"What."

"Depressed."

Jongup thought about it. "I don't think so," he said. 

And he wasn't. The lawsuit--the _hiatus_ , whatever you wanted to call it--was almost a month old now. Jongup was used to being back home in the relative quiet of his parents' house. Jonghwan had been kind enough to obtain an epic collection of video games in the past few years, and Jongup planned to play his way through all of them. It wasn't like he had anything better to do--possibly ever again.

Okay, maybe he was a _little_ depressed.

"Hmm." Jongin sounded unconvinced. "Look, I'm supposed to meet Minhyuk and those guys for a drink, why don't you come?"

Jongup pulled a face. He liked his hyung's friends very much; he'd known them since he was a kid. Maybe that was the problem, though. They were always kind but very much _treated_ him like a kid, and after years of being treated as an equal, almost, by Yongguk and Himchan, the idea of going out as Jongin's dongsaeng made him feel all scowly.

"Nah," he said. "Thanks, hyung."

He could sense his brother scanning his face. Jongin had the same x-ray vision thing both of their parents possessed. Jongup wondered if that was a skill he would inherit when he got older. He'd tried many times, staring down his members, trying to see past what they were saying to what they were actually _thinking_. Himchan was the only one it really seemed to work on, but Jongup thought that had more to do with the way his hyung wore his heart proudly on his sleeve, and less to do with any particular insight of his own. 

"Jongup--" Jongin began, and the doorbell rang, effectively cutting him off. Jongup mentally thanked his hyung's friends for their timing. He wasn't in the mood for a brotherly interrogation today.

Jongin sighed and made for the door. "Hold that thought," he tossed over his shoulder as he went.

"Have fun," Jongup said vaguely, not bothering to look away from the screen. There was a sniper out there somewhere trying to take him down. 

He was vaguely aware of the sound of voices at the door; of the sound of his brother telling someone goodbye. Jongup ignored this, just as he ignored the quiet footsteps of the elder returning to stand behind him. He kept playing.

"Sniper's on the roof, Jonguppie."

His head snapped around to find not Jongin, but Himchan, leaning in the doorway, one hand in his pocket, the other scrolling through his phone. His lips quirked into a smile when Jongup met his eyes. "Hi."

"What are you doing here?" Jongup demanded. He hadn't seen Himchan since their last day at the dorm, although the elder texted him several times a week at least. He gave a half-shrug.

"I was bored," he said. "And you weren't answering your phone. Let's do something."

"Like--together?" Jongup asked. He was still trying to wrap his head around Himchan's presence. His hyung had turned his attention back to whatever was on his phone, but at Jongup's question his eyes lifted slowly to meet his.

"Yeah, Jongup-ah," he said, amused. "Like _together_. Unless you have something else going on?" He glanced over Jongup's shoulder at the TV, where the game had gone back to the main menu after Jongup's lapse in concentration had killed him. He couldn't find it in him to care at the moment. Warmth was flooding his belly. 

"No," he said quickly, ditching the controller and standing. "That's fine, hyung. Um. What did you want to do?"

"Eat," Himchan said promptly, pocketing his phone and fixing Jongup with a dazzling grin. "Get dressed."

*

It wasn't like they'd never gone out just the two of them. It had happened dozens of times over the years. It was just that most of those had meant wandering off from the others at the airport to grab a burger, hasty trips to the convenience store across from the dorm, or exploring foreign cities with a camera crew while their teammates filmed their MV segments on tour. 

This felt different. Himchan had come to _get_ him. He'd sought Jongup out specially, and there was no one waiting up for them, nothing to rush back for.

Jongup found himself putting in more effort to getting ready than he had in weeks, even trying to do something with his hair, which was hopeless. He was too used to having stylists take care of it for him. 

Finally, aware of Himchan waiting downstairs, he gave up and took the stairs down three at a time, landing in a graceful if noisy thump on the bottom. 

"Ready," he panted. Himchan smiled again and Jongup found himself responding in kind. _Himchan_. It was so good to see him. 

Himchan let him pick out the music while he drove.  Jongup fiddled endlessly with the tuner, unable to find anything quite right. His hyung didn't seem to mind. 

Himchan took them to one of the busy centers of the city and they walked. The sun was out and there was a breeze ruffling Jongup's hair and he couldn't remember anymore what had been so enticing about the couch and promise of video games.

Himchan gave him a sidelong look and laughed. "What are you smiling at?"

"You look good, hyung," Jongup said. It was true. He hadn't realized before, but now that he saw Himchan after a few weeks, he could see he had gained some weight and was looking more solid and healthy. Jongup liked it. 

"I always look good," Himchan said lightly, but he could see he was pleased. The older boy slung his arm over Jongup's shoulders. Jongup continued to look at him, taking in that perfect profile. " _You_ look good, though, except you've been spending too much time inside. You're so pale, Jonguppie. Vitamin D is important, okay? Why are you laughing?"

"This is why everyone says you're the mom of the group," Jongup said, still grinning. Himchan pulled him closer so he could pinch his cheek and Jongup's heartbeat sped up a little. He was out of practice being touched this much; his brothers communicated more through the occasional punch or brief wrestling match. The Moons weren't the most demonstrative family. BAP, and Himchan in particular, had taken getting used to, and Jongup was surprised to find that he'd missed this. He tickled Himchan's ribs and his hyung ducked out of reach, giggling in that ridiculous way that was uniquely his. 

It turned out Jongup had missed _that_ , too.

*

It was late by the time Himchan pulled up outside his parents' house. Jongup felt warm and happy, full of soju and good food. 

They hadn't discussed the lawsuit. For the first time in months, they hadn't talked about the group at all. There were no strange meetings to unpack, no thinly-veiled threats of _do this or else_ to confirm they hadn't just imagined. Himchan _ate_ , and Jongup realized how long it had been since he'd seen his hyung enjoy a meal. 

They'd talked about stupid stuff, their families and movies and this crazy dream Himchan had about turning into a horse. 

(Jongup liked hearing about people's dreams. Yongguk hyung's always seemed to have some deeper meaning Jongup couldn't grasp, Daehyun hyung's were always set to music and involved either disastrous singing performances or food--or both--and Junhong dreamed about flying more than anyone Jongup knew.

Himchan hyung's were his favorites, though. They were always satisfyingly weird and so _detailed_ , and Himchan told them like he was telling a story, full of flourishes and drama. And then he was always happy for Jongup to pick them apart, to ask question after question and come up with alternate endings. Himchan was so fun.)

Jongup looked at his house, at the warmly glowing windows downstairs. 

He kind of didn't want to go in. 

He glanced over at Himchan, who was looking at him. 

"This was fun," Jongup offered. The older boy nodded, smiling a little. 

"We can do it again if you want," he said. Jongup was nodding before he finished the sentence, and Himchan's smile widened. 

"I missed you," he said with a laugh. He reached over and for a strange second, Jongup thought he was going to touch his cheek. He ruffled his hair instead. "Don't stay up all night playing video games, Jonguppie."

Jonghwan was in the kitchen when Jongup went inside. His brother was eating kimchi straight from the jar. He arched an eyebrow when the dancer came in. 

"You left the house," he observed. Jongup shrugged and got himself a glass of water. 

"Himchan hyung wanted to hang out."

"You're smiling," Jonghwan said. 

"I had fun," Jongup said. His brother was looking at him closely. "What?"

It was his hyung's turn to shrug. "Nothing," he said.

**

**Now**

**

Jongup talked himself hoarse, and when he finished, no one said anything. It was a _loud_ kind of silence, though, the quiet stuffed full of his brothers' questions and opinions. 

Surprisingly, Jonghwan spoke first. 

"I kind of undersold it when I called it a crush, I guess," he said. Jongup looked to see if he was joking and saw that he wasn't.

"Yeah," he agreed. 

"You said Himchan has the pictures?" Jongin said. His voice was sharp in the soft blanket fort air. 

"Has them or destroyed them," Jongup said. He was a bit hazy on those details. "He said he got it in writing that she'd never publish anything about it, though."

"Good. That was smart," Jongin muttered. Jongup bristled. 

"Yeah, he thought of everything," he said bitterly. His brother looked at him and softened. 

"I just mean--it's good he protected you," he said. "There are so many assholes out there, Jonguppie, something like this could have been a disaster."

All of the ways it _had_ been a disaster--all the ways it _still was_ a disaster--caught in Jongup's throat. Jonghwan seemed to sense his distress, because he gripped his elbow hard. 

"I think that's missing the point, hyung," he said mildly. Jongin looked confused. 

"What? No, I understand!" he said. "That's a crazy thing to learn two years after the fact, Jonguppie. I don't blame you for needing time to--to process--"

"Yeah," Jonghwan said. He pointed to the far end of the tent. "Hey, look, there's the point! Say bye, point!" He waved at an imaginary spot. Jongin looked nonplussed.

"Okay, what?" he demanded. "How did I miss the point?"

"He _lied_ ," Jongup said. "Him and Yongguk both. For _years_ , I thought--" He looked at Jonghwan, who nodded. 

"And that's bad," Jongin said. "Obviously, right, okay, but--I can kind of see why he might--where are you going?"

Because Jongup had pulled free of his brothers' grips and was crawling for the exit. The tent felt stale and airless now. He didn't have it in him to explain himself any more. He supposed he should be grateful Jongin was thinking practically instead of trying to talk him out of his feelings.

He lifted the edge of the fort and ducked out, fresh air hitting his cheeks with an almost audible slap. He walked towards the kitchen, hearing his brothers scrambling after him. 

"Jonguppie, come on--"

He waved them away, veering for the door. "I'm just getting some air," he said. He picked up his shoes from the mat and opened the door to leave.

He almost ran face-first into Yongguk.

The rapper took half a step back. His fist was raised to knock. It took him a beat to remember it, and lower it awkwardly to his side. 

"Hyung," Jongup said blankly.

"Hi," Yongguk said. "Can we talk?"

*

Running, Himchan thought, was one of those horrible punishing things people should only do if they hated themselves.

He'd gotten into it with a fervor during his enlistment, and again the day after his conversation with Jongup. As always, he found the pain in his feet and legs and lungs sufficiently distracting to mute some fraction of his thoughts, which was really the whole point. 

He rounded the corner to return to the house, dripping with sweat, aching all over, too aware that the small cold voice he'd been outrunning would be catching up to him any second. 

_Nice try! Want to think about Jongup some more? Or your parents, maybe; wonder where_ they _are! How about your nonexistent future?_

Today, though, he found new distraction in the form of the figure crouched outside Hana's house. It rose as Himchan approached. 

"Hi, hyung," Junhong said. 

"Hey," Himchan said, staring at the instrument sitting beside the maknae. Junhong smiled a little and picked up the janggu. 

"I heard you needed this back," he said.

*

Himchan handed a mug to Junhong and settled on the stoop beside him. 

"I'm having lots of talks out here these days," he commented. Junhong just looked at him. He tried not to shift uncomfortably, but he was very aware that he was probably about to be chewed out by the maknae, and that he deserved it. 

Instead, Junhong said abruptly, "You look terrible, hyung. Have you been sleeping at all?"

Himchan thought _terrible_ might be overstating it; he'd had a quick shower after coming home, leaving Junhong in the kitchen to chat awkwardly with Hana while she bustled around getting ready for work. He'd found some of his sister's concealer and dabbed a little under his eyes until the worst of the bruise-colored circles disappeared. 

"Define sleep," he said. 

"The...I don't know, the traditional definition." 

Himchan took a long sip of his coffee. "Then not much," he said, laughing hollowly. "Thanks for bringing the janggu, Junhongie."

"Yongguk hyung was going to drop it off, but he went to get Jongup hyung instead."

Himchan winced. "He's been at Jonghwan's ever since--?"

"Yeah."

Yongguk had told him about Jongup's departure, but he had assumed the dancer was back in the dorm by now. He must have been missing schedules. 

_Way to go, Channie. Who else can you fuck things up for?_

"Yongguk hyung'll bring him home, though," Junhong said confidently. "What d'you need your janggu for, hyung? Are you practicing again?"

Himchan glanced at him sideways. He'd been expecting the maknae to be pissed at him--he supposed he expected just about _everyone_ to be pissed at him these days--but he was acting perfectly friendly. Himchan relaxed a little.

"No--I mean, I should, actually--but it looks like I'm gonna help start this youth orchestra thing Mina's working on," he said.

He'd called her yesterday. She'd given him a host of details, including the hours (long), the pay (low), and her hopes for the program (high and huge). Her enthusiasm was infectious, and Himchan had found himself getting excited about the idea. At the very least it would be something to _do_ , something to get his mind off everything. A fresh start somewhere. 

"Oh, cool, really?" Junhong said. "You're gonna teach janggu?"

"And a few other instruments, yeah. And hopefully work with them some on composing their own music. If I can even remember any of this stuff," Himchan said with a small laugh. This was a genuine worry. He still hadn't been able to listen to music since he'd been back, and he was supposed to start work the next week. Time was growing short.

"Of course you'll remember!" Junhong said, nudging him. Himchan smiled and rested his chin on his fist, studying the maknae. His hair was very short, and had been dyed that sandy color Himchan always thought suited him best. His face had finally lost its last remains of baby fat. It'd be harder to pinch his cheeks now. 

"How come you're not mad at me?" he asked him. Junhong's smile faded and he looked at his cup of coffee rather than his hyung. "You must know what I did by now."

"You mean the pictures?" Junhong said.

"I mean _lying_ about the pictures, yeah."

Junhong frowned and muttered something Himchan couldn't make out. He leaned in toward him.

"What?"

The dancer cleared his throat. "I just--I said _thanks_ ," he said. Himchan blinked a few times. This he had _not_ expected. "I just--" Junhong broke off and he could see the wheels turning in his head. "It was horrible when you left," he said abruptly. "Worse than you think, I bet. Yongguk hyung and Jongup hyung were a mess but really we all were. It took a really long time for anything to start to feel okay again. But--" He stopped and swallowed. "I don't know how to say this," he muttered.

"Just say it, Junhong-ah."

"If those pictures came out and something happened to Jongup hyung too, I just. I don't think I--" Junhong stopped again and gave Himchan a guilty, miserable look. He felt a surge of affection as he understood what the dancer was trying to say. He put a hesitant hand on his shoulder. 

"You needed your best friend, Junhongie, I get it," he said gently. Junhong nodded. 

"I needed you too," he said quickly. "It's not like everything was fine because my Jonguppie was still around, I mean he was basically catatonic for months, but--"

Himchan winced at the thought and drew his hand back to wrap around his mug, trying to draw comfort from its warmth. 

"But he was _there_ ," Junhong went on doggedly. "And I...I think I get why you did it, even if he can't see it right now. Does that make sense?" He looked at Himchan again and hell, he was so grown-up. 

He nodded. "Thank you," he said quietly. It wasn't enough, it wasn't _close_ to being enough, but his gratitude toward the maknae felt too huge to contain at the moment. Junhong ducked his head and bumped his forehead against Himchan's shoulder affectionately. 

"Hey," Himchan said. "If you have a little time, I need your help with something."


	7. Chapter 7

No one ever believed Daehyun when he said the reason he liked getting up early was because it was quiet. As if being possessed of a certain default volume negated his occasional enjoyment of silence. Mornings were his favorite. Mornings meant peace and contemplation (he could hear Youngjae snorting at the very idea). 

Sometimes Daehyun would take a cup of coffee into the common room and scroll through SNS, giggling over how adorable Babyz were. Sometimes he'd take his time in the shower, confident that no one was waiting for their turn. Sometimes he'd tidy up the mess left by ( _Jongup_ ) the others. Daehyun craved a clean space. He'd grown used to constant mess and clutter, but he sometimes feared it was aging him prematurely. One of these days he'd wake up to a full head of grey hair.

This morning the dorm was in decent shape for once, so he took his cup of coffee and nudged Jongup's bedroom door open a crack. The dancer was a narrow lump under his blankets, just the dark tuft of his hair poking out. 

It had been five days since Yongguk had gone to get him. Daehyun couldn't seem to stop checking up on him, even though he knew Jongup found it annoying. 

But  he'd never _left_ like that before--three days without a word. At least he'd let Junhong know where he was before going silent, and Daehyun knew Yongguk had been in touch with Jongin. But even with Jongup back now, things felt off. He and Yongguk must have talked, but the dancer was keeping his distance, and Yongguk was being very careful with him in a way that suggested they'd merely reached a truce, not actual forgiveness. Jongup's eyes had a way of going dark and distant--it wasn't quite as bad as the period after Himchan left, but it was close enough that the sight made Daehyun's chest fill with anxiety. 

 He couldn't blame his friend for needing to work through some stuff after that bombshell Himchan dropped. Knowing Yongguk had been in on the lie all this time...Daehyun wasn't one to hold onto grudges, but even he was having a hard time letting go of that one. 

Normally he would have poked Jongup with a stick until he gave up all the details, but the singer had the sense that this particular situation might require a gentler touch. He certainly couldn't ask Yongguk what had happened. He'd obviously been kidding himself to think the leader saw him as any sort of partner. 

He eased Jongup's door shut again and moved onto the third bedroom. As always, Junhong lay spreadeagled across the top of his bed. His right leg had wandered precipitously close to the edge. Daehyun put his mug down on the dresser to ease the maknae's limb into a more secure spot on the mattress. Junhong let out a single snore and slept on. 

Daehyun turned to get his coffee and found Youngjae propped up on one elbow in the other bed, watching him. He just managed not to scream. 

"Are you trying to scare me to death?" he hissed. Youngjae smirked. 

"It's not my fault you only have eyes for the maknae," he said. Daehyun rolled his eyes and made for the door, attempting to flick his friend's forehead as he passed. Youngjae ducked easily and rolled out of bed, following him out into the common room. 

"Why are you awake?" Daehyun asked. Youngjae pulled a pillow into his lap and pulled a blanket over his head like a hood.

"Such a good question," he grumbled. "I was just _thinking_."

"Must be serious." Daehyun settled on the other end of the couch and stuck his bare feet under Youngjae's butt for warmth. His friend gave him a mildly disgruntled look but allowed this. Daehyun passed him his coffee in payment. "Thinking about what?"

"Just...stuff, you know," Youngjae said. Daehyun nodded. Of course he knew. "D'you think this week'll go okay?"

They would be filming the MV for their first Chinese single over the next few days, and it would be the first time the group would all be together since running into the reporter. 

"It'll be fine," Daehyun said, accepting the mug back and taking another sip of coffee. "I mean, it might not _feel_ great, but it's not like Jonguppie can ignore Yongguk hyung while we're filming."

"I guess." Youngjae leaned his cheek on the back of the couch. "I hate that one set we're using today, the floor's always so slippery, remember?"

They had done part of _1004_ there. Daehyun thought of Yongguk zooming gracefully across the floor like he was on ice skates, then pushed the thought away. He wasn't ready for such fond reminiscences just yet.

"Jonguppie had to borrow your shoes," he recalled, and Youngjae grinned a little. Daehyun passed the mug back to him. "I kind of wish we weren't going somewhere we've been before," he admitted. 

_Before_ , of course, meant back when they were still six; before everything got so _complicated_. Hell. That MV had been two major disasters ago. Sometimes, in his darker moments, Daehyun wondered how many more the group could take before they broke for good. 

Youngjae poked a bare toe into the ticklish spot between his ribs and Daehyun flinched away, giggling involuntarily. 

"You'll spill!" he protested, half-amused and half-annoyed. So, pretty much his default feelings when dealing with his best friend. 

"It'd be such a _shame_ to stain the couch," Youngjae agreed, looking pointedly at the stiff pink splotch from Junhong's strawberry smoothie a few weeks ago...then the spatters of red sauce on the back from the pizza incident.

"We live in squalor!" Daehyun wailed, giving in to despair and dropping his own head on the couch, mirroring Youngjae's pose. His friend tickled him again, holding the mug aloft with one pinky out elegantly. Daehyun grabbed his foot--gross--and trapped it between his own body and the cushion, giving Youngjae a _so there!_ look as he did. His friend just shook his head. He looked suddenly serious.

"You still haven't asked me what I think about all this," he said. Daehyun shifted a bit uncomfortably. Youngjae's foot was very boney under him. 

"Didn't want to give you a chance to say _I told you so_ ," he said, reaching  for humor. Youngjae didn't smile. 

"You need to get over this thing with Yongguk hyung," he said. Daehyun scowled and picked at the scab of smoothie on the upholstery by his knee. They really should have cleaned it right after it happened; it was set in the fabric by now. 

"There's no thing with Yongguk hyung," he said tonelessly. 

"You're jealous."

Daehyun's eyes snapped back to Youngjae's. "I am n--why would I be _jealous?_ "

Youngjae was unperturbed. "You think the fact he kept Himchan's secret means he doesn't trust you or something, and now all your fantasies of being his new best friend are crumbling around you like so much whatever."

"It doesn't sound like _I'm_ the one who's jealous," Daehyun snapped. "And I want my coffee back."

Youngjae handed him the mug and pulled his foot free. He tossed the pillow aside and stood, the blanket sliding off his head to reveal his messy mop of hair. Daehyun could only gape as the younger man stretched calmly. He didn't see how he could look so relaxed when he was drowning in so much _wrong_. 

_Jealous_ , pah! As if.

"Something's up with Junhongie," Youngjae said, apropos of nothing. Daehyun frowned.

"What?"

"He's been disappearing all week. You've been kind of preoccupied with your whole not being jealous thing, so I figured you hadn't noticed."

Daehyun ignored the dig. "I thought he was at the studio?"

Youngjae shook his head. "Nope. I went looking for him yesterday after I finished practice and he wasn't in the building. That wasn't the first time, either. He's been coming home crazy-late the past few nights, plus he's all cagey when I text him. You or Yongguk hyung might want to talk to him."

He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants and looked down at Daehyun, who still felt uncomfortably exposed by his words. _And_ like he was a shitty hyung on top of everything else. 

And possibly a not-that-great friend to his _actual_ best friend. 

"Youngjae-yah," he began, but at that moment their phones began to trill their wake-up call from atop the coffee table. Youngjae silenced both devices. They could hear the sound of matching alarms coming from the bedrooms, an answering groan that could only be the maknae, and a thump from elsewhere that was most likely Jongup throwing his phone against the wall. 

Youngjae held his fist in front of Daehyun's face. His expression was unreadable. 

"Play you for the shower," he said.

*

Himchan was late for school.

"Almost 30 years old and late for school--don't be like your samchon, okay baby girl?" he said to Sangmi as he bustled around the kitchen, trying to walk and tie his shoes at the same time. His niece let out an agreeable shriek from her high chair. 

"Did you finish your homework?" Hana asked from the doorway. Himchan almost tripped over his shoelace, made himself stop, glared at his sister. 

"You're enjoying this," he accused.

"I'm your noona; it would be unnatural if I didn't like seeing you so nervous on your first day," she said, grinning. "Oh, hold still." She put her coffee down and took hold of Himchan's tie. 

"I can do it myself," he protested. He'd tied hundreds of ties in his day and--ahem--watched the coordi noonas do up thousands more. 

But his hands _had_ been a little shaky this morning for some reason.

"Of course you can," Hana agreed absently, her hands moving expertly, tightening a perfect knot against Himchan's collar. "How long was Junhong here this time?"

"We didn't keep you awake, did we?" Himchan asked, worried. "We were trying to keep it down--"

"It was fine, pabo, we sleep like the dead these days unless the baby goes off," Hana said. "So?"

"Not--as long as the other nights," Himchan said, a bit guiltily. 

It had been an accident, really. He'd merely asked the maknae for some song recommendations to help catch him up on what he'd missed in the past two years. The dancer had been thrilled by the request, immediately pulling up songs on his phone. They sat hunched over the thing, listening and talking for an absurdly long time before it occurred to Himchan that there were speakers inside. They set up shop and Junhong continued to DJ for him, playing him bits of everything, from their old friends and favorite groups, to new debuts Himchan had missed, to Junhong's latest favorites out of America, Japan and Germany. He listened to such a wide range of music, and Himchan had marveled quietly to himself to see how readily and how _eloquently_ the maknae could talk about it all. He still broke into the occasional dance fit, though, thank goodness. That was one habit Himchan prayed he'd never grow out of.

He seemed to sense that Himchan wasn't ready to hear B.A.P yet, and hadn't suggested any of their songs.

The first time Himchan cried--the second song after they went inside--Junhong had been alarmed, but he only waved a hand and swiped at his eyes with the crook of his arm.

"It's okay, Junhongie," he told him with a slightly watery laugh. "It's just I forgot what music _feels_ like."

What it felt like was waking up after a very long, dull dream. It felt like his lungs were inflating fully after years of constriction. 

It felt like the first time Jongup ever kissed him.

"Aw." Junhong had scooted across the floor to lean against his side. They were passing a bottle of orange juice back and forth and he gave it to Himchan so he could fiddle with his phone. "Now, if Psy makes you cry, hyung, I'll be worried..."

Music opened the world for Himchan again. He'd forgotten that feeling, of _possibility_. Of magic, even. 

It was late when Yongguk finally called Junhong, looking for him. 

"Was he mad?" Himchan asked when he hung up, almost laughing to hear how young the question made him sound. He _felt_ young, and giddy, and as close to happy as he could be when everything was still such a mess. 

"Nah," Junhong said. "I just missed practice is all." He seemed too unconcerned for Himchan to really worry. They went on listening and talking until they ran out of juice at almost 3am. They walked to the 24-hour convenience store down the block for more, then Himchan put the maknae in a taxi back to the dorm. 

He'd slept the last few hours of the night uninterrupted by dreams for once. The next night, Junhong was back and they did it all over again. A few nights later, again.

Himchan thought he might be ready to do this orchestra thing. He'd even gotten in some janggu practice while Hana was out with Sangmi. He'd been rusty, but not as hopeless as he'd feared. 

Mina's arrangement seemed manageable, anyway. He'd be assisting the head percussion teacher and working one-on-one with a few drummers on janggu and sogo, as well as a few students interested in learning composition.

"I figure we'll take it from there once we have a sense of what the kids can do," Mina had said with a shrug. It seemed fair enough to him.  

"Well, I think it's great you're doing this," Hana said now, stepping back to cast a critical eye over Himchan's outfit. "You need it."

"Thanks, I guess," he said. His sister gave him a very serious look. 

"Listen, Himchannie, you know we need to talk about--"

"Noona I'm seriously going to be late if I don't get out of here five minutes ago."

"Fine, just--tonight. Dinner. Appa just called and invited us."

Himchan's stomach dropped. Hana had told him their parents were home from their trip two days ago, but after everything with Jongup, and with his enrollment in Junhong's Reintroduction to Music 101, and with preparations in full swing for the start of the orchestra, he'd managed to push it from his mind. But of course he'd known he'd be seeing them soon.

"You tell me this _now_?" he complained. 

Hana shrugged. "At least you won't be home to stew about it all day," she said. 

*

They'd been here before, but now everything was different. 

Jongup still remembered last time, of course. They'd filmed the group dance sequence for the _1004_ mv here. He'd worn leather pants, which were always hard to dance in, and shoes borrowed from Youngjae, which were even worse, though they didn't slip as badly as his own. He'd been in a good mood. The choreography was good; the MV different from any they'd done before. They all had to act heartbroken, so of course they were mostly in stitches for the three-day shoot. 

This vid had a punk-grunge kind of vibe. Jongup's jeans were more rips than denim, and his boot laces were artfully untied. Youngjae and Junhong were competing to see who could slide farther across the floor in their stocking feet. So far they were neck-and-neck.

Jongup was in a bad mood. The others had covered for him when he missed practices to move onto Jonghwan's couch, but the past five days hadn't been enough to fully catch up. He still felt distracted and distant, and every night it took him hours to fall asleep. Now he felt unprepared and awkward as he warmed up in the corner. He caught Yongguk watching him from across the room and turned away quickly.

They'd talked, or done the Yongguk-and-Jongup version of talking, which was altogether faster and less wordy than the average conversation, in the hall outside Jonghwan's apartment, pretending not to notice the elder Moon brothers eavesdropping from within.  

"He wanted to be the one to tell you," Yongguk said quietly. "I don't think he really expected you to speak to him again after--after what happened--but when you did, he made up his mind to tell you everything. The reporter being there was just shit timing, you know?"

It wasn't that Jongup didn't understand. There was no question Himchan had to be the one to tell him. But he couldn't stop thinking about the fact that Yongguk had watched him grieve for two years, and hadn't told him the one thing that might have made him feel a little less abandoned. 

He could have at least given him a _hint_.

There was nothing to do, though, but return to the dorm and real life with Yongguk. 

Still, it was easier if Jongup didn't look at him. His mind kept providing images of _Bbang and Chan_ through the ages: the two of them on Yongguk's bed with a bottle of wine, sharing a pair of earbuds as Yongguk played a new demo for Himchan; Yongguk perched on the counter beside him as Himchan cooked in their already-cramped dorm kitchen; the hyungs in a cluster with Kang, discussing things their precious dongsaengs couldn't possibly handle hearing. Of course Himchan had confided in Yongguk, his true partner. He probably hadn't even needed to think about it. 

Someone nudged Jongup's shoulder and he turned to find Daehyun giving him a solemn look.

"You okay?"

He tried to tamp down on his annoyance, giving his friend a terse nod in reply. Daehyun had been distinctly cool towards Yongguk since Jongup's return, though Jongup couldn't for the life of him see what any of this had to do with him. He guessed he should appreciate the solidarity, but mainly he just found it a bit stifling. When Daehyun worried about someone, his concern draped over them like a blanket, and Jongup had spent enough time under blankets for one week. 

Thankfully, his hyung didn't push.

"We're starting," he said.

*

It happened in a heartbeat. One minute, Jongup was surrounded by cameras, doing his solo dance break, going in for a flip like he'd done a million times, and the next he was on the floor, gasping for breath, his knee a bulging, alien shape under his skin. 

Yongguk reached him first. 

"Hey--okay--" he stuttered. He pulled Jongup's back against him, an arm across his chest, equal parts comfort and constraint. Jongup could hear a strange whining. It took a second to realize it was _him_ , his breaths coming with this high, hurt sound. 

The pain was huge. He hadn't known it could be like this, but of course it could. Bodies were so fragile, really. How insane everyone was, just skating along atop the ice, ignoring the ocean of potential agony waiting just beneath them. 

Junhong was there next--so many people surrounded Jongup then; he saw Kang, then Daehyun's face, so pale and stunned behind, and then there was a medic at his side and Jongup closed his eyes.

"You had a bad landing," someone told him, as if he wasn't very fucking clear on that point already. Hands probed at his leg gently and Jongup bit the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming. His hands scrabbled for purchase, for _something_ , and found Yongguk's hand against his chest. The rapper gripped his wrist tightly. 

"It's been dislocated; we need to get you to a hospital."

"Can't you just--snap it back into place?" Jongup asked through gritted teeth. They did it all the time in the movies, though that was normally shoulders. He couldn't remember ever seeing a knee look like his did now. 

"They'll give you some pain meds or what we call conscious sedation before a doctor performs the reduction," the medic said patiently. 

"An ambulance is already on the way," someone else--Kang?--said. 

"I bet they'll run the siren for you and everything, Jonguppie," Daehyun said supportively. 

"Dae, I'm hurt, I'm not five," Jongup reminded him, squinting up at his friend. The singer looked chagrined. 

"Right, sorry."

"Can we ride with him?" Junhong asked. His eyes were very wide, but his voice was steady. 

"There won't be much room; they can't usually take more than one extra person," the medic told him. 

"You'll ride behind, Junhongie," Yongguk said. "I'll go with him."

The ambulance was there quickly, then Jongup was surrounded by strangers moving efficiently around him, lifting him onto a stretcher, cutting away his jeans (they had a head start already). Yongguk kept out of the way, but every so often someone would move so Jongup could see him, a steady presence with him in the back of the vehicle. 

They did, in fact, run the siren.

*

It felt wrong to think about anything but Jongup, but every time his thoughts touched on his friend, Daehyun's mind played back the moment he went down, of his foot slipping as he landed from his flip. He'd made that same flip a million times over the years. 

"It was the floor," Youngjae said from beside him, reading his thoughts in that uncanny way he had. "Had to have been. It was so slippery, he never should have had to dance there."

"They're looking into it," Kang said. Youngjae made an incredulous sound.

"Looking _into_ \--hyungnim, come on."

Their manager heaved a huge sigh. "I know," he said quietly.

"What does this mean for the MV?" Daehyun asked. He felt like a proper asshole even asking, but better to think logistics than to dwell on the moment of the fall, or the horrifying stretched-out look of Jongup's knee after. 

Junhong was pacing across the hall from where they sat in the hospital. Daehyun thought it would probably take all three of them to restrain him if they tried. 

"Don't worry about the MV," Kang told him. "We'll push it back, or maybe they'll have the rest of you finish it and see if we have enough footage with him from this morning to splice something together--"

"Junhong's not dancing on that set," Daehyun said sharply. "None of us are. It's not safe." His tone wasn't as respectful as it should have been, but Kang let it go. 

"You're right, don't worry," he said. His phone went off and he sighed again. "I'm taking this outside. Text when we know something, yeah?"

The three were left alone. 

"I should have said something," Daehyun said. "I knew it was slippery, but--"

"We all did; this isn't on you," Youngjae said immediately. "It was okay last time we were there. It was just...an accident."

"How long does a dislocated knee take to heal?" Junhong spoke up for the first time. He was still pacing. 

"I don't know, Junnie--can you sit down, please? You're making me seasick," Daehyun said, which made no sense, but Junhong sat in Kang's vacated seat anyway. His leg jittered nonstop. Youngjae slung his own leg over it, anchoring it in place. 

"It'll be fine," he said. "It'll take as long as it takes, but then it'll be fine. It's not broken or anything."

"We don't know that," Daehyun objected. Youngjae clucked his tongue.

"It's what the medic said, so let's be positive until we hear something, at least," he said, giving the maknae a pointed look. 

"Right," Daehyun said sheepishly. 

Junhong seemed to be only half-listening, anyway. "Should we call Himchan hyung?" he asked.

The singers exchanged a glance. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," Daehyun said. It wasn't that he couldn't see the appeal--part of him would have killed to have his hyung beside him now. Himchan could fabricate drama out of the smallest thing, but in actual crisis he was always a reassuring presence. But he couldn't imagine _Jongup_ finding him a comfort right now; not when he was so angry. It felt disloyal to even consider it. 

Except didn't he still have some loyalty to Himchan, too? Daehyun hated to admit it to himself, but he thought what Himchan had done had been kind of...romantic, almost. Stupid and misguided, sure, but...still. He'd given up everything for Jongup. It was almost noble.

Still stupid, though. 

"I don't think Jongup would want him here," he told Junhong. "Besides, who even knows if Himchan wants to talk to _us_ right now."

One of the irritating parts about being Jung Daehyun was how much he hated the thought of anyone being mad at him. He might be having some complicated feelings about Himchan at the moment, but there was definitely some guilt mixed in there. He hadn't reached out to him at all since that reuinion dinner at Yongguk's. Sure, he'd been busy, but it was more that he didn't know how to be a friend to both Jongup and Himchan now. With the last week's new revelations, it was even more complicated.

"Of course he does," Junhong said, bewildered. "Why wouldn't he want to talk to us?" 

Daehyun couldn't help smiling at his innocence. "Things are kind of complicated now," he explained, patting him on one broad shoulder. Junhong gave him an odd look and pulled out his phone. "What are you doing?" Daehyun asked.

"I'm just texting him really quick."

"Daehyunnie's right, Junhong-ah; might not be the best idea," Youngjae interjected. Junhong glanced between his hyungs with an oddly. sheepish expression. 

"No, I just--I need to tell him I can't come over later," he mumbled, staring fixedly at his phone as he scrolled through his contacts.

Youngjae's eyes bulged comically at Daehyun, who waved him off. 

"You two were gonna hang out tonight?" he asked, as casually as he could manage. Junhong chanced a quick look at him.

"We didn't really talk about tonight, but we've been, kind of. Hanging out a lot this week?" he said. 

"So _that's_ where you were," Youngjae said, all light and cool like his face didn't have that _I TOLD YOU SO_ glow. "What have you guys been doing?"

Junhong started typing distractedly. "Um--"

"Hey." It was Yongguk, behind them. "You can come in to see him now."

*

The drugs took the agony away. Jongup couldn't stop staring at his knee. It was back together again, so that was something. But...

"Is it supposed to look like that?" Daehyun hissed. Youngjae snorted and nudged him. 

"Why are you whispering? Are you scared it'll hear you?" he asked with a snicker. 

Normally Jongup would have laughed along, but his knee _did_ look like it might have been switched out with some kind of alien life form. 

"They said it's normal for fluid to build up after they put it back in place," Yongguk said. "That's why it's so...lumpy."

"I want to poke it," Youngjae said. He caught Yongguk's eye. "I mean, I _won't_ ," he added hastily. 

"S'cool," Jongup said. His head felt fuzzy from the painkillers they'd pumped through his IV. They'd worked _fast_. He was cold, and his leg was elevated so he could perfectly see the mottled skin of his knee, stretched painfully across the swollen mess of fluid and bone beneath.

Yongguk was watching him closely. He had been since the accident. Sometime during the ambulance ride, Jongup's anger toward him had faded to be replaced by relief that he was there. He wouldn't leave Jongup alone to deal with the doctors and nurses, all the strange probing hands.

"Should some of us go?" he asked now. "You look a little...out of it."

"Nah, stay," Jongup said. He heard his own words slur a little and he reached for the water beside his bed. Hospital water tasted metallic but it came with a bendy straw, who knew? "I'm okay."

Truthfully, he'd prefer the blunt questions and noisy presence of his friends to the fearful clamor of his own thoughts. Even through the haze of painkillers, he'd already thought about how long Himchan had been benched when he was injured--and that had been his _hand_. 

Injuries like this one could end careers if they didn't heal right.

There came a _ribbit_ from across the room and Jongup winced as Junhong took out his phone. His friend had been using the frog sound as his text alert for years. Jongup and Himchan used to find it so hilarious, but they'd never explained why. It was just theirs, the frog story. The sound never failed to make Jongup hurt a little after Himchan left. 

Now it just made him wish--nothing.

Junhong was frowning at his phone. He swore under his breath.

"What's wrong?" Daehyun asked. 

"He's...coming to the hospital," Junhong said. "He's almost here."

"Who?" Yongguk asked. 

" _Junhong_ ," Youngjae said reprovingly. 

"I didn't tell him to!" Junhong protested.

"Who?" Yongguk asked again. Junhong pulled a face, gave Daehyun a pleading look. The singers clearly knew what was happening; Dae was watching the maknae with a look of annoyance and Youngjae was shaking his head. 

"Himchan hyung," Junhong muttered, giving Jongup an apologetic look. "Don't be mad, Jonguppie, but we've been kind of...hanging out a little. Just like listening to music and stuff. You know he really couldn't listen to anything at all for two years, and he was kind of nervous about getting back into it? So I was just playing him some of the best stuff." He paused. "There was a lot. Anyway, I didn't know if he thought I was coming by tonight and I just sent him a quick text to say I couldn't 'cause I was with you in the hospital, and I guess he just got the text and I guess he's coming here now, but I swear I didn't ask him to." He ran out of breath and words at the same time and he bit his lip, looking at Jongup apprehensively.

Jongup's thoughts seemed to be running on a slower track than usual. He was thinking about Junhong hanging out with Himchan, and the assumption that he, Jongup, would be angry about that.

He was thinking about Himchan, living with his sister, sleeping on her couch for weeks, with nowhere else to go.

He was thinking about Himchan not being able to listen to music for two _years_ and feeling nervous about starting again. 

Jongup's knee wasn't the only thing that hurt.

"You don't have to see him, Jongup-ah, don't worry," Daehyun said quickly. "I mean, he had to know you wouldn't want to, I don't know why he's even bothering," he muttered as an aside to Youngjae, who just shrugged.

Jongup frowned. He was thinking about other things now, Himchan and hospitals...

Shit.

"You need to let him see me," he said. He drank the rest of his water quickly, ignoring the straw. He wished his head would clear, but it seemed to be going the other way.

"You don't have to--" Daehyun began, but Jongup shook his head convulsively, looking at Junhong.

"Did you tell him what happened?" he asked. His friend's eyes were wide.

"No, I just--I just had a minute, so I said I couldn't make it later because I was meeting you...here..." Understanding and horror passed over his face. 

"What?" Daehyun said, looking back and forth between the dancers. "We'll tell him, Jongup, it's fine--"

"It's not fine," Jongup said as sharply as he could through the ever-deepening haze of meds. He looked at Junhong. His friend's massive form seemed to be wavering around the edges. "Go meet him, will you?"

"Yeah. Right. Sorry." Junhong backed out of the room quickly. Daehyun watched him go, bewildered. Jongup saw Yongguk looking serious; saw that he understood. 

"I'm confused," Daehyun complained. 

Surprisingly, it was Youngjae who spoke up. "The last time someone Himchan cared about was in the hospital, it was his mother and she wound up paralyzed," he said. Jongup nodded. He could have sworn he felt his brain sloshing in his skull.

"He'll be freaking out until he sees me, no matter what Junhong tells him," he said. He saw Yongguk nod. 

There wasn't much for the four of them to do but wait. Jongup was glad that Kang and the other managers were still off rearranging schedules or whatever; he didn't want Himchan to have to see TS people without warning. 

It didn't take long. Junhong returned, Himchan in tow, and Jongup saw that he'd been right. The older man's lips were a thin line and something in the way he was carrying himself told Jongup he was just managing to rein in his nervous energy. He had on a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, his tie loosened to a crazy angle. Jongup wondered what he'd been doing to be dressed this way. 

All week, the thought of Himchan had filled him with rage and loss, but at this moment his anger dulled to so much background noise. In its place was the quiet knowledge that Himchan was afraid, and Jongup didn't want him to be. 

The older man's eyes raked over him, lingering on his knee and then on his face. His hands were clenched in tight fists at his sides. Jongup held out his hand tiredly.

""m okay," he said. Himchan crossed the room as if the words had released him, and took his hand. All the nerve endings in Jongup's body seemed to zero in on the points where Himchan's fingers touched his palm. 

"You're in the _hospital_ ," he said. He was glaring at Jongup's knee. "What the hell were they thinking, having you all dance there?" Junhong had clearly filled him in on the way. 

"Nothing bad happened last time," Jongup reminded him. His eyes were drooping--more side-effect of the drugs--but he was annoyingly comforted by Himchan's presence. Even the older man's anger felt comforting, somehow.

Jongup's eyes drifted down to where their hands were still linked. He didn't think Himchan even realized they were touching, or at least he'd forgotten that they didn't do this anymore. 

His hand was dry and warm, his forefinger stroking the dancer's palm. Jongup decided not to remind him just yet. 

Himchan had good hands. Jongup had always liked his wide, flat thumbs, the soft feel of his skin. It was more calloused now. Jongup ran his thumb across his knuckles and felt Himchan's hand jerk in his. He looked up to find the older man staring at their hands, too, wide-eyed.

Some distant part of Jongup was reminding him that this was an awkward thing to do in front of their friends. It was reminding him that he was angry at Himchan, with good reason. It was reminding him of all the reasons he'd decided to stay away. 

Jongup thought these were all valid arguments and he would listen to them. Tomorrow. He tightened his grip slightly and let his eyes flicker back up to Himchan's face.

The older man looked back at him thoughtfully. Some of the tightness had gone from his face and his eyes were clear of the desperate, frightened look he'd had when he first came in. 

"The--" His voice was hoarse. He coughed, started again. "They're keeping you overnight?"

"Mm mm," Jongup shrugged disinterestedly. Himchan and his _questions_. His questions out of his stupid _mouth_ , which was very pretty, and which was trying not to smile now. Not just anyone could spot that not-quite-smile because Himchan was a good actor, but Jongup was a better detective. 

"I think his painkillers are kicking in," he heard Himchan say, looking away from him to talk to Yongguk. Some distant part of Jongup tried to remind him why this should annoy him, but he was so _tired_ and listening seemed like a lot of work.

"They want him here at least until the swelling goes down." Yongguk's voice sounded like boulders crashing against each other. When Jongup closed his eyes, he could actually _see_ the stones: gray and craggy and...and really good at rapping. Ha.

"Jongup-ah?" Himchan's voice came from high, high above. It sounded rocky, too, only the stones were small and smooth and there were enough of them to cover the whole world. Jongup hummed in response. He felt Himchan's hand tighten around his, then loosen and try to pull away gently. Jongup's eyebrows pulled together and he whined a little in protest, though he couldn't seem to get his hand to move. He heard Himchan's gravelly laugh. "You'll be asleep in a minute." This seemed unlikely. Jongup was on a rocky cliff in the middle of a dark ocean. How was he supposed to sleep _here_?

Himchan's voice again, closer this time. "Everything's gonna be all right."

Oh. That was fine, then. Jongup let the ocean carry him, anchored by the feel of Himchan's hand in his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience, and thanks for reading! Come poke me on tumblr; I'm moonyeyedwalrus there, too. <3


	8. Chapter 8

Himchan hated hospitals, let him count the ways: the antiseptic smell that could never quite hide the scent of illness, the labryinthine layouts, the pesky way they stripped a person of the idea that the world made sense or that disaster wasn't lurking around every corner...but he suspected he'd have a harder time explaining how comfortable he felt in this one. 

Maybe that wasn't _so_ strange; he'd spent more nights than he cared to remember parked on the stiff chairs in the hallway, waiting for his mother to wake up or finish a physical therapy session. He knew the single vending machine in the building that, by whatever fluke, produced a decent, non-chemical-tasting cup of coffee. He knew which nurses could be coaxed into slipping an extra jello cup onto the dinner tray; which back entrance could be ducked out of without sounding an alarm when fresh air was immediately essential. Even two years later, when he smelled that familiar bleach scent, it gave him a flash of not-quite-fond nostalgia. 

But he would never, ever be comfortable seeing Jongup here. The maknae's text had scared him more than he liked to admit. Images of a broken Jongup, a deathly ill Jongup, had filled his mind. Stupid, really. If he had been seriously injured or sick, Himchan would have gotten a call from Bbang, not an offhand text from Junhong. 

But his knee looked wrecked, and it had only taken one glance at the dancer's glassy eyes to see the severity of the painkillers they'd put him on. Thank goodness for that. It must have been agony.

The dancer was asleep. His hand had gone limp in Himchan's, and he'd let it go reluctantly, more because his friends were still in the room than because he wanted to. He had to put his hands in his pockets to stop himself brushing the hair off Jongup's forehead. He wanted to run his hands over every centimeter of his face, to let his fingers remember the feel of his skin. 

It was new, this urge, or rather it felt fresh after laying dormant for years. Himchan had always been touch-hungry, and it was only after those evenings with Junhong, who was still so casual and affectionate with physical contact--leaning against Himchan as he laughed, slapping his back as they mock-argued--that he realized he'd been starving. 

"So I guess you two made up?" Daehyun said into the quiet. Himchan shook his head. 

"We didn't," he said, pleased when not a trace of self-pity seeped into his voice. "He's loopy from the painkillers, that's all." It hurt, but he knew it was true. There was no way Jongup would have held his hand if he were in his right mind. He'd probably be pissed about it when he woke up, but it was such a small thing on top of all his other grievances that Himchan wouldn't let himself worry about it. If he'd been a small comfort for even one minute, he'd accept any fallout without complaint.

There was an awkward silence. 

"How'd today go, hyung?" Junhong spoke up. Youngjae looked between them.

"What was today?" he asked. 

Himchan dragged his eyes away from Jongup to answer. "I'm helping Mina start a youth orchestra and today was the first official day," he explained. It already felt very long ago; he would swear the drive to the hospital had taken twelve hours at least. 

The orchestra had been a little overwhelming at first. The students were so _young_. Himchan had thought he knew "young"--it was Junhong's ceaseless energy and helpless laugh, Yang's anxious stutter and endless questions. Himchan hadn't thought he was all that far from young himself. But faced with a classroom full of teenaged musicians, he found himself unmistakably adult. 

At least he hadn't been the one in charge. After Mina greeted the group as a whole, they divided into their sections. The percussionists were to be led by Park Taeyong, a salt-and-pepper-haired man in a leather jacket who had given Himchan's tie a dubious look when they were introduced. Himchan thought him surprisingly soft-spoken for a teacher, but he'd proved himself knowledgable from the start. Himchan suspected he would learn a thing or two from working with him. 

"That's cool, hyung," Youngjae said. "So that's why the--you know--" He motioned to Himchan's clothes. He nodded and smiled.

"I was a little overdressed," he admitted. "But yeah, I think it'll be good--I've got five kids I'll be working with individually, plus just doing whatever I can to help out in general."

He realized his hand had wandered and his fingertips were resting against Jongup's pulse, measuring the steady beat of blood in his wrist. Dammit, he wanted to press his lips there, press his whole fucking body against the dancer's until their heartbeats merged, but at this point he was too grateful they were in the same room to complain.

Yongguk was leaning against the windowsill on the other side of the bed. "What are your kids like?" he asked. He'd been touchingly excited when Himchan told him about the orchestra.

_I should have done something like that_ , he said. _Whoever talked me into becoming an idol? Was it you, Channie?_

Himchan had laughingly demurred; Yongguk couldn't pin that one on him.  

"I think they'll be good," he said slowly. "I've got two on janggu, one sogo player, and two interested in composition. I really just got to say hi to those two, but I got to work with the drummers a bit. This one girl, Seulki--" He shook his head. "She's gonna be a star, I swear; she's so far beyond where I was at her age."

Part of him doubted he'd have much of substance to teach her, while the rest of him was just excited to see what else she could do. It had reminded him a little of seeing the maknaes dance for the first time. Their styles were so distinctive, but both Junhong and Jongup had impressed him from the start. And he hadn't been able to imagine either of _them_ could possibly get better, but they'd both continuously outdone themselves. He thought Seulki, with her neon blue hair and seemingly-perpetual scowl, would do the same.

"I love it, _Himchannie Seonsaengnim_ ," Daehyun teased. He looked exhausted despite the lightness of his tone. His hair had gone from the purple of a few weeks before to a deep brown. Either the stylists had given him a rumpled look or he'd been running his hands through it compulsively. Himchan thought it might be safe to brush the hair out of _his_ eyes, so he did, scritching his scalp lightly the way he used to when the younger had a headache. The look Daehyun gave him in response was both surprised and pleased.

Himchan's phone rang and Youngjae gave an outraged gasp. 

"No _cell phones_ in the _hospital_!" he said, pointing to a sign. Himchan remembered those signs very well; he'd spent days glaring at them after his parents' accident before he realized they were mostly for show.

He rolled his eyes at Youngjae and pulled out his phone to check who was calling--

"Oh, fuck," he said as he saw. 

"What's wrong?" two or three of the others asked, their voices overlapping. 

"I just--forgot something," he said, answering the call. "Noonaaaa," he greeted his sister, his voice going high and apologetic. Hana's was apoplectic in return. 

"Where _are_ you? We've been here for almost an hour already!" she hissed. He winced.

"You're at the house?" He saw Yongguk's head come up, guessing, probably, at whose house he meant. He'd told Bbang his parents would be home this week. 

"Yes," Hana said testily. "Just like _you're_ supposed to be. I texted Mina and she said you left over an hour ago, where the hell are you?"

"I'm sorry, noona, I should have called," Himchan said with a sigh. "I'm at the hospital."

"Why are y--"

"Jongup was hurt."

Hana went quiet for a beat. Junhong perched gingerly on the end of Jongup's bed and kicked at Himchan with one long leg, giving him a sympathetic look. 

"I'm sorry to hear that, is he all right?" Hana's voice was subdued. Himchan looked down at Jongup again. Was he paler than usual under all the stage makeup? 

"He got hurt dancing. Dislocated knee."

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

"Does this--I mean--you're with him at the hospital, does that mean you two are--?"

Himchan could still feel his fingertips tingling where they'd touched Jongup's hand. He scuffed his shoe against the floor. "I just needed to make sure he was okay; it doesn't _mean_ anything," he said, his voice harsh and too-loud in the quiet room. Daehyun frowned at him and he turned away hurriedly. Really he should take the call in the hallway and risk the wrath of a passing nurse, but he and Junhong had had to duck out of sight of a few TS employees on their way in, and he didn't fancy running into anyone he knew.

Besides, he wasn't ready to leave Jongup's side just yet.

"Look, Himchan, I know you want to be there for him but tonight is kind of important--it's been _two years_ \--"

"I know, I know," Himchan said. "Tell them sorry for me, okay? I'll get there as soon as I can. Don't wait on dinner, just--I'll get there in a bit."

"Make it a short bit," Hana said, and hung up. Himchan grimaced and turned back to find three sets of eyes pretending not to watch him and one not bothering to hide his stare.

"Your parents?" Yongguk said. Himchan nodded.

"They just got back," he mumbled.

"You should go, hyung. You have to see them," Daehyun said softly. The others were nodding. Himchan nodded too but couldn't make eye contact with any of them. He looked down at Jongup. 

"He'll be fine," Youngjae said, looping his arm through Himchan's. "We'll--call you if anything happens?" Himchan caught him looking around at the others for approval. Daehyun and Juhong both nodded. Yongguk was still watching Himchan with a small frown. 

"I guess there's not much point in just watching him sleep," Himchan said. His fingers traced Jongup's pulse again. His words were crap and he knew it. There _was_ a point in watching Jongup sleep. Knowing he wouldn't wake up alone in a strange place was the point. Reassuring himself that he was safe was the point. Holding his hand and seeing the small muscles in his face twitch as he dreamed and knowing how to get him an extra jello cup if he wanted it later was the point. 

But it wasn't his place to do that now, no matter how Jongup had acted--that had been the painkillers, nothing more. The dancer deserved his space. 

"I'll walk out with you, hyung," Daehyun offered. "I could use some air."

Himchan made himself agree. He tugged the ends of Youngjae's hair and the vocalist ducked away, smiling. He wrapped Junhong in a brief hug. 

"It'll be okay," he whispered in his ear, and the maknae nodded quickly. He was freaked, Himchan saw, and he vowed to get him to come by for another music night soon. 

He looked at Yongguk. "I'll call you later?" he said. His friend looked as exhausted as Daehyun. Himchan wished he had a place of his own to invite the group to--he'd lure them in with food and then force them all to sleep for sixteen hours. But he doubted Hana would appreciate the addition of four extra bodies in her already overstuffed house.

He and Daehyun made for the exit. The younger man's brow was deeply furrowed in the elevator, but they weren't alone, so Himchan waited until they were outside. 

The side entrance had a smooth stone path set under a series of metal and glass arches. Benches lined the walkway. Most were occupied by hospital staff on their smoking break, but Himchan drew to a halt in front of the last empty one and tugged on Daehyun's arm.

"C'mon, sit for a sec, you look about ready to collapse," he said. The younger didn't protest. They sat without speaking for a moment and let the sound of traffic wash over them. The air was sharply cold and tasted of smog and nicotine from the smokers nearby. Himchan would take it over the medicinal taste of recycled hospital air any day. 

"Do you have a cigarette?" Daehyun asked. Himchan squinted at him.

"You shouldn't smoke; it's bad for your voice," he said. They'd had this argument many times before. It had been hard to have the moral high ground when Himchan had smoked himself, even if he hadn't considered his own voice nearly as integral to the group as Daehyun's.

The younger man just looked at him and Himchan rolled his eyes, pulling the pack from his pocket. "You can have a couple drags off mine," he relented, lighting one. 

They passed it back and forth in companionable silence before Daehyun spoke up. 

"I'm sorry I haven't called."

Himchan looked at him in surprise. "You don't have to apologize; I know you guys stay so busy."

"Junhongie found the time. And Yongguk hyung all the time, obviously." There was something sharp in his voice Himchan hadn't expected. 

"What was that?"

"What?" Daehyun wouldn't meet his eyes. 

"That voice," Himchan pressed. "Are you and Bbang fighting or something?"

Daehyun half-shrugged and took a drag off the cigarette. He didn't cough at all. This clearly wasn't his first smoke in awhile. Himchan wanted to reprimand him--it _was_ bad for his voice, plus obviously it was bad for everything else, too--but there were more pressing matters at the moment.

"Just tell me," he said. 

"It's nothing, I just--I thought he trusted me," Daehyun muttered. His cheeks went pink. Himchan stared.

"This is about the pictures?" he asked incredulously. He should have known. He hadn't thought through what it would mean, confiding in Yongguk two years ago. That was two years of Yongguk lying to the others. Of course they were pissed, Daehyun and Jongup especially. 

Daehyun just shrugged.

"He was keeping _my_ secret," Himchan said bracingly. "It's not like he wanted to. I put him in an impossible position and he did the best he could. It doesn't mean anything about how he feels about _you_ , pabo. He's really proud of you and grateful for you."

Daehyun turned big, hopeful eyes on him, though Himchan could see he was trying to be skeptical.

"How do you know?"

Himchan glanced around as though to make sure they wouldn't be overheard. "Sometimes," he said confidentially, "when Bbang and I talk? _He_ talks."

"He talks about me?"

"Of course he does. He talks about all of you. You know he never could have gotten his own place if he didn't know you'd take care of the others. He trusts you, Dae, believe me."

He let the younger shift, ruminate on this for a minute. He felt his phone buzz with an incoming text and winced down at it. 

Hana: _Eomma refuses to start without you, you'd better be on your way_

He tucked the phone away and stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray beside the bench. 

"I need to go," he said reluctantly, standing. 

"We'll get a drink sometime," Daehyun suggested. He seemed buoyed suddenly, and Himchan took heart at the thought that just maybe he'd done some good for _someone_.

"Sure. And keep me posted on--" He motioned to the hospital behind them. Daehyun nodded.

"Of course."

Himchan had only gone a few steps when the other man's voice stopped him. 

"You know, the second Jonguppie thought you might be worried, he forgot all about being mad at you."

Himchan's heart gave a little lurch but he ignored it. These were dangerous waters. "That's because he's the sweetest person on the planet, Dae," he said patiently. "Also, those painkillers are no joke." He was pretty sure Yang had promised him his firstborn while he was similarly drugged up, before reality set in.

"Sure. But if you think that's all it was, you're kidding yourself."

They looked at each other for a beat, the past two years swimming between them. Himchan realized for the first time that Daehyun looked older. He had been so distracted by Jongup that first night with the group that he hadn't really noticed. Daehyun's features had settled somehow, his jaw was stronger,  new weight sat nicely on his frame. He was right around the age Himchan had been when he'd left. 

"I'll call you about that drink," he said.

*

He knew the route from the hospital to his parents' house by heart. He'd made the drive dozens of times when he was helping move his parents' things to the first floor so they would be accessible to his mother. What a strange time that had been. Everything had felt fractured, the ground a constantly-shifting mass under his feet.

Except for Jongup. 

In the midst of his mother's injury and the new reality they all had to face, as Himchan was coming to depend on those damned diet pills, as idol schedules continued apace, there had been Jongup. The dancer was the eye of the hurricane that had been Himchan's life. Every time he'd pulled him against him, his calm, his _quiet_ , gave Himchan the strength to venture back out again. 

God. He couldn't stop picturing him in that hospital bed. No matter he was sleeping, it killed Himchan not to be beside him. 

It didn't help that he wasn't sure what to expect from this reunion. 

He parked across the street from the house and stared at it for a minute. The second floor was dark, of course. He wondered if his father ever even went up there anymore. His room must be covered in dust. It occurred to him there might be some old clothes he could snag from his closet, if his parents hadn't gotten rid of everything.

The downstairs was brightly lit. Himchan saw the curtain twitch in the front window. He'd been spotted. 

Time to face the music.

*

He debated knocking. He debated it so long that Hana beat him to it, opening the door and dragging him inside. The air was redolent of spices and Himchan felt a sickening jolt of homesickness as he smelled his father's cooking for the first time in so long. 

"Sorry, noona," he managed, trailing behind, realizing too late that he'd left the wine he'd bought at lunch in his desk at school. 

"Don't apologize to me," she said grimly. They stopped short in the hall outside the kitchen. Himchan could hear the clattering of kitchen sounds. Bustling sounds. Appa sounds. And suddenly he very much wanted to see his parents. He frowned at Hana, who was in turn frowning at him. 

"You're a mess," she murmured, straightening his tie. "I guess there's nothing to do about that."

"Guess not."

"Hana? What are you doing out there?" 

They both froze at the sound of their mother's voice. Hana gave Himchan a steadying look and he nodded and let her pull him into the kitchen.

"Look who I found!" she said brightly.

The kitchen was its usual controlled chaos, all four stove burners in use, neat stacks of dirty dishes beside the sink, ingredients set out in small bowls, neat as soldiers. Himchan's father stood at the stove, a pristine apron protecting his clothes. 

He stared at his son and Himchan stared back, taking in the changes. The lines in his father's face had deepened and his hair had thinned. His stance canted slightly to the left the way it used to only when he was very tired.

Before Himchan's mind could formulate a greeting, there was a familiar gurgle from across the room. Sangmi was in a high chair pushed up next to the table. His mother was beside her, neat and compact in her wheelchair. She had frozen in the act of holding out a toy to her granddaughter, whose little fist opened and closed for it now, just out of reach.

"Adeul." Himchan turned again to find his father coming around the stove toward him, and then his arms were around him. He still wore the same spicy cologne he'd worn when Himchan was a kid, no matter how many times he'd exasperatedly suggested he change it up. He was glad now to have been ignored. 

His father's back felt frail somehow under his hands. Insubstantial. But his smile when he pulled away was the same as it had always been. The Kims were universally possessed of great smiles. 

"Welcome home," he and his father said at the same time, and laughed, and Himchan felt some of the tension drain from his shoulders. He turned back to his mother. Her eyes were roving over him. He'd wondered if she might cry--he'd wondered if he would himself--but her eyes were dry. His father gave his arm a gentle squeeze that got him moving. He went to his mother and bent to kiss her cheek.

"Hi, Eomma. Sorry I'm late."

"Yes, well. Your father decided to make three more dishes we don't need with the extra time--"

"We will always eat hot pepper paste soup," Appa said mildly from the stove. Himchan's mother pursed her lips to keep from smiling. 

"What kept you?" she went on, her eyes going to Himchan's tie. "Was it the orchestra?"

The lie rose to Himchan's lips and was almost out before he could stop himself. When had lying become such a reflex? He thought of Jongup's face. He thought, _no more_.

"I was at the hospital," he explained, gently taking the toy from his mother's loose hand and passing it to Sangmi before she could start to scream for it. He rested a hand on the baby's downy head for a beat and she blinked owlishly up at him. He pulled out the chair to sit beside his mother, who had tensed at his words. "Jongup was injured shooting an mv this afternoon."

Correction: he had _thought_ his mother tensed when he said "hospital," but it was nothing next to the way her body turned to stone at the sound of Jongup's name. The room was silent for a beat, then a glass of wine was lowered in front of Himchan's face and he turned to find his brother-in-law giving him a sympathetic look. Himchan accepted the glass and took a sip, reminding himself not to overdo it. 

"How is he?" Sanghun asked. 

"He dislocated his knee; it's hard to say how bad it is until the swelling goes down," Himchan said. The whole drive over his fingers had itched to see what the internet had to say about this particular injury. He'd gotten very adept at using Naver to figure out what to expect during his mother's hospital stay. But it could wait until he got home later. 

"That's rough on a dancer," Sanghun said.

"I didn't realize you were still in touch with that boy," his mother said. Himchan bristled. He hated when she called him "that boy," as if she hadn't met him a thousand times, as if he hadn't had dinner at this very table. 

The worst part was, it took him by surprise--the last time his parents had seen Jongup, they both seemed to be actively trying to be okay with his relationship with Himchan. 

"Of course I am. I'm in touch with the whole group," he said, tamping down on his annoyance.

"Hana, Himchan, help me put food on the table," his father interjected. Himchan didn't look away from his mother, whose lips had gone very thin. 

"Is something wrong?" he prodded. 

"And you rush right to his side at the drop of a hat," she went on. 

"Eunji--" his father said warningly. She and Himchan didn't drop their eyes. 

"He's in the _hospital_ ," Himchan said. "It's not some small thing."

"Where's your self respect?" his mother demanded. "You gave up everything for him and he carried right on with his life the same as always. Now you're back and you're going to just let him keep using you?"

Himchan reared back a little, startled. He caught sight of his sister hovering behind their mother looking guilty. She must have told them the real story after he'd gone. He didn't know whether to be grateful or annoyed. 

"He's not _using_ me; he didn't even want me there," he said. It was more reminder to himself-- _meds; remember he was on meds_ \--than anything else, but it was the wrong thing to say. His mother's eyebrows reached for her hairline.

"After everything he's so ungrateful as this?" she demanded. 

Himchan scrubbed a hand over his face, suddenly exhausted. "Everything I'm saying's coming out wrong," he muttered. 

"Himchan-ah." His mother's voice was steel. It cut through the haze in his head. "There's such a thing as _loyalty_. You know that; you sacrificed your future to protect him. And what did he do? Left you behind."

"This is all kind of funny coming from the woman who didn't want us together in the first place," Himchan said. 

"Apparently I was right! Here you are, no career, no future, not even this _relationship_ to make you happy--"

"Eomma, really, you've got to stop bottling these things up; just say what you really think and don't try to spare my feelings."

Her eyes blazed. "This isn't funny," she snapped. "Bad enough we had to live with the shame of that-- _article_ \--" Her face flushed and Himchan could see her trying to get herself under control. He felt oddly distant from the moment, as though he were observing from far away. He counted slowly in the back of his mind. Put his wine down. He was done drinking too much in anger. He  wouldn't be storming out of the house drunkenly just to sit in his car across the street until he was able to drive.

He tried to focus on the thought that at least some of his mother's anger was on his behalf this time. She really thought _he'd_ been abandoned, but only because she didn't have all the information. He could set her straight on that.

"Jongup didn't even know about the pictures until last week. He spent all this time thinking I wanted to leave him because that's what I _let_ him think. _That's_ why he's angry at me; because I lied, because I hurt him, and never gave him the chance to stop me or help, or--" Horribly, he felt himself getting choked up. He'd spent the last week thinking about Jongup's perspective, but somehow saying the words out loud made them hit him the hardest.  He reached blindly for his wine and took another sip. When he put his glass down, his mother leaned forward.

Himchan jerked back a bit in surprise, but she only placed her hands on either side of his face. 

"My Himchan," she sighed. Her thumb stroked his cheek. Her eyes had softened and her hands were gentle. "More wine, I think. And dinner; your father made all your favorites. Good thing, too. You're so _skinny_."

Himchan laughed and rolled his eyes, blinking back the tears that had begun to threaten. He realized his father had come to stand over him. He had one arm outstretched--to restrain him, maybe, if he tried to leave. 

He brought one of his mother's hands away from his face and squeezed it, watching her expression lighten. 

"Food sounds good," he said.

*

The pain filtered in first. 

Jongup was dreaming about sledding. He'd trudged to the top of the hill, but when he set his sled in the snow and pushed off, it didn't work. His knee got caught on something. The momentum of the sled started to pull him down, but his knee was caught, twisted behind him, and then the hill wasn't a hill at all anymore but a cliff, and he was dangling by his leg and he was screaming--

"Jongup-ah."

His eyes opened and Yongguk's face swam into view, his dark eyes worried. Jongup felt his hand on his shoulder. He swallowed hard and felt his throat click. His knee felt like fire. He didn't dare look at it. 

"What. What time is it," he managed. Yongguk looked away for a beat. 

"Almost six am. You've been out almost twelve hours." 

Jongup lifted his head a little to glance around the hospital room. Yongguk found the small white remote control to raise the bed a bit so his didn't strain his neck. The room was empty except for the two of them. 

"What are you still doing here?" Jongup asked. His voice was rough. Yongguk poured him some water from the pitcher next to his bed. 

"In case you needed anything," he said.

"Hyung."

"I had some work to do, anyway." Jongup saw Yongguk's laptop resting on the floor next to his chair.

"Hyung."

"And these chairs are more comfortable than they look."

"Hyung, you're ridiculous." Jongup couldn't help smiling a little. "But thanks." Yongguk just stuffed his hands in his pockets and smiled back bashfully.  Jongup finally looked at his knee and grimaced. It was still a mess. They'd braced it and some of the swelling had gone down so it was more recognizably a human limb, but he'd never seen those particular colors on his own skin before. 

"This is bad, isn't it," he said, his smile fading. "Like--like really bad."

"It'll be fine. Wait and hear what the doctor has to say," Yongguk said. Jongup met his eyes. 

"They must have said something already," he pressed. Yongguk shifted uncomfortably. "Just say it."

Yongguk sighed. "Six weeks," he said simply. "Six weeks _minimum_. You'll have crutches but mainly you need to stay off it as much as possible."

Jongup winced and looked away. He couldn't quite catch his breath for a minute. Six weeks--they were meant to go to China for promotions in less than three--His hands clenched into fists. His fingernails dug into his palms. 

His hand--he turned back to Yongguk as a new memory assailed him.

"Himchan was here?" he said before he could stop himself. Yongguk looked startled, but nodded.

"Junhong texted him, remember? He came as soon as he heard."

Jongup vaguely recalled this, though the images were hazy. Junhong apologizing...Himchan's face, tight with worry. His hand, warm in Jongup's.

"He'd still be here now but he was supposed to see his parents," Yongguk explained. Jongup's head jerked up. 

"Last night?" he said. Yongguk nodded. 

"I tried calling him to see how it went, but he didn't pick up," he said, slipping his phone from his pocket and frowning at it. Jongup scowled. His heart was doing that thing where it tried to slip out of his body, all stealth-like, to find its missing piece. He rubbed a hand over his chest to show it _I'm onto you, buddy._

But if Himchan hadn't seen his parents before last night...then he didn't answer Yongguk's phone call...Jongup's memory supplied the image of a car, crookedly parked at the side of the road, of a red stain on a front seat. Of a figure on a swing set...

"Call him again," he said. 

"Jonguppie, it's 6am, he'll be asleep."

"It's his own fault for not calling you back." After all, Jongup hadn't wanted Himchan to worry, even though he was very justifiably angry at him; the least Himchan could do was show him the same courtesy. 

Yongguk shrugged and dialed again. Jongup drank more water. He imagined it snaking through its bendy straw and straight into his brain, clearing it of medicine-made cobwebs.

"Where are you?" Yongguk said into the phone by way of greeting, and Jongup relaxed fractionally as he heard Himchan's voice, tinny and indistinct, on the other end. "Oh, is it? 6 am, you say?" Yongguk made a show of checking a nonexistent watch. _He's mad_ , he mouthed to Jongup, who gave a satisfied nod in response. "You never called me ba--Oh." He rolled his eyes at Jongup. "Yeah, I stayed the night...He's okay; he's awake finally. He was worried about you."

Jongup glared at him but the rapper ignored this. "I--Hang on." He held out his phone. "He wants you. To talk to you." Jongup didn't think he was imagining the way Yongguk's lips twitched at the corners, though his eyes were wide and guileless. He must have been taking lessons from Junhong or something. Jongup accepted the phone.

"Hi."

"Jongup-ah." Himchan's voice was warm in its surprise. "How are you feeling?"

"Leg hurts pretty bad, but I'm not so out of it now." Jongup glanced at Yongguk. The rapper gave a start and muttered something about coffee, then took up his laptop and left the room.

"What was that?" Himchan asked.

"Just Yongguk hyung leaving."

"Oh."

Jongup could hear him breathing quietly. He pictured him all sleep-tousled, in his glasses, a t-shirt and pajama pants, curled up in a blanket on Hana's couch. It was how Jongup had always liked him best, before the makeup or coordi noonas could get to him. He'd always felt the most like Jongup's in those early morning hours, still sleepy in his arms.

Jongup reached cautiously for his anger, and found it wasn't the same as he'd left it the day before. Today it felt more like sadness.

"Hyung said you saw your parents for the first time?" he asked. Himchan didn't answer right away.

"Yes," he said finally. Jongup winced at how careful the single word sounded.

"How was it?"

Another long pause. "I'm not sure how to answer that," Himchan said. "It was...partly kind of fine? No one screamed, anyway. But I. I don't know." He sounded hollowed out. Jongup closed his eyes. He tried to imagine they were in the same room. 

"Tell me," he said simply.

"I just feel so--I didn't _think_. I mean, obviously. But I _shamed_ them with that article. They were humiliated, and I never even--" Himchan broke off for a minute. When he spoke again it was in the brisk tone he used as cover when he was upset about something. "I guess it's kind of amazing they wanted to see me at all. Listen, we don't need to talk about this. Have you seen a doctor yet today?"

Jongup didn't want to let it go so easily. Even angry-sad-whatever he was, he wanted to help. But everything he thought of sounded inadequate. Himchan had shamed his family to protect _him._ What could Jongup say to that without just pouring salt in the wound?

"I haven't yet, but Yongguk hyung did. They said I have to stay off my leg for six weeks. At least six weeks."

Himchan hummed unhappily. "That sounds about right. At least they should let you go home soon. Will you stay in the dorm?"

Jongup considered this. He supposed he could go back to Jonghwan's, or Jongin would want him. But the idea of being so far from the group while he was unable to dance or practice or _anything_ made him anxious.

"Probably."

"Well just make sure you do whatever the doctors tell you; don't push yourself before you're ready."

"Yes, hyung." 

"You're humoring me," Himchan said, and Jongup was relieved to hear the smile in his voice.

"Yes, hyung." He smiled a little in response. He wondered if Himchan could hear it. 

"Listen, Jongup-ah, I'm glad you guys called. I was thinking..." He heard Himchan shifting around, heard the rustle of fabric. He ignored the way his heartbeat sped up a little at his words. "I owe you an apology."

"You already apologized."

"Not for that. Although I _a--_ but I mean--for just showing up at the hospital like that. I shouldn't have done that. I just freaked when I got Junhong's text."

Something like disappointment settled in Jongup's chest. "Oh."

Himchan continued haltingly, seeming to choose his words with care. "I heard you last week and--you get to be mad, and take as long as you need, and--I just don't want you to think that every time you turn around I'll be _showing up_ and trying to change your mind or something. Okay?"

Jongup considered this. Technically, it _would_ be easier not to see Himchan. His presence was overwhelming, wrapped in so many conflicting feelings that it was impossible to keep a clear head when he was around. Time and space might be the only things to help with that. This was for the best; it had to be, even if the thought made him feel like he was drowning. 

"Okay."

"Okay." From Himchan, the word was little more than a sigh. "If you ever need anything, though."

"I know."

He needed a new knee. And a time machine to either go back and do yesterday over (hell; he'd do the past two years over if he could just change a thing or two) or skip forward over the next six weeks. Also, he kind of needed to pee.

He didn't think Himchan could help with any of those. 

If he'd said _want_ , maybe.

The door was pushed open and a tiny woman in blue scrubs and a crisp white lab coat bustled in with a clipboard.

"Ah, he's awake!" she said. Jongup blinked at her. 

"Hi," he said. "Himchan, I think I have to go."

"Take care of yourself, Jonguppie."

"Sorry we woke you. Go back to sleep." He hesitated. "Hyung?"

"I'm still here."

"You too, you know." Jongup avoided looking at the doctor. "I'm--still pissed and stuff, but--if you ever need anything, I'm still. You know."

"Oh." Himchan couldn't hide his surprise. "Thanks, Jonguppie."

"Go back to sleep," Jongup said again, and hung up with some regret just as Yongguk came back in. The rapper gave him a tentative, questioning look. Jongup could only shrug.

The doctor was standing over him, examining his knee brace, the fluid in his IV, whatever was written on his chart. She didn't look at him as she spoke.

"And how are we feeling this morning?"

Jongup arched an eyebrow and rummaged around in his own head.

_mad_ _sad_ ~~_i miss him_ ~~ _ow my knee seriously OW_ _mad_ _sad_ ~~_I miss_ ~~ _OW_

The doctor looked up from her clipboard expectantly.

"Ma'am," Jongup said. "I really don't think you have that kind of time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, just wanted to send good vibes to all of you finishing up your semesters this month! You've worked hard! I hope this is a nice distraction from finals. 
> 
> While I'm at it, good vibes to the rest of you, too. I'm glad you're here.
> 
> <3 <3


	9. Chapter 9

The two janggu players began slowly, _pok pok pok_ pok _pok pok_ , before gradually increasing in both speed and volume. Himchan tensed in anticipation as the rhythm became more complex, and--he tried not to sigh too obviously as the same thing that had happened the last three times happened again. One of the players drew slightly ahead of the other, the beat fractured and doubled. Seulki and Hyunjoo glared at each other as they played. 

On the surface, the teenagers couldn't have been more different. Seulki was all neon hair and scowls, clothes artfully mussed, while Hyunjoo combed his hair with a level of precision Himchan had grown accustomed to seeing in the army. The boy was serious and polite and made Himchan feel about three hundred years old, while Seulki managed to fit a truly impressive amount of disdain in just a few words.

Himchan held up a hand and they stopped. 

"She's rushing the crescendo again," Hyunjoo burst out. Seulki rolled her eyes and made a sound like a beer can being crushed in the back of her throat. 

"If you'd just _keep up_ for once--"

" _I'm_ not the one who--"

"Enough," Himchan said. "Seriously, if you two keep this up I'm going to take your instruments away and make you do trust falls until you can _work together_." He glared at the two of them and Hyunjoo deflated visibly. Seulki continued to scowl but couldn't meet Himchan's eyes. "Seulki, you want to lead? Then _lead_. You need to communicate or he's right and you're just rushing. Put your music away."

They gave him twin questioning looks.

"Seonsaengnim?"

"Away, turn it over." He waited until they did as he instructed, then demonstrated a much simpler beat on his own janggu. "Start here--" he played the same beat at an excruciatingly slow pace. "Get to here." The same beat, eighteen times faster. "I want a gradual, smooth progression. Don't look at your instruments, don't look at sheet music, look at each other."

His students shifted grudgingly so they could see each other more easily. Seulki gave a nod and they were off, drumming the slow beat Himchan had modeled for them. Another small nod and they increased their speed fractionally. Another--another--another. Himchan tried not to let the satisfaction show on his face. This was much better. 

Despite their constant bickering, he couldn't help liking his students. He didn't even mind Seulki's arrogance, since she had the skill to back it up. He could be harder on her and not worry she'd crack. Hyunjoo required a gentler touch, but only slightly. He had somewhat less natural talent than Seulki, but made up for it by working his ass off. Himchan could respect that.

They finished their crescendo at the same time for once, and exchanged a grin before they remembered they were annoyed with each other and Seulki slid her scowl back on and Hyunjoo's face returned to polite disinterest. Himchan tried not to laugh. He'd have to watch out for these two or they'd be dating by the end of the year. They looked at him expectantly. 

"Better," he said, not letting his amusement show. "Now let's see if you can do that with a beat that wouldn't be too easy for a first year."

*

Mina knocked lightly on the doorframe. Students streamed out of their practice rooms and into the hall behind her, filling it with the sounds of laughter,  boasting and arguing. 

"Hey," she said. "Feel like going for a drink?"

Himchan was stuffing sheet music into his backpack. What did he do with that Ryu concerto...

"Uh, not tonight, sorry," he said distractedly. Mina came into the room and closed the door. 

"How are you?" she asked. "I've been so busy with all of this we've barely even talked."

This was half true. Mina had been preoccupied with preparations, grant meetings and any number of administrative tasks as she got the orchestra off the ground. But Himchan had found it blessedly easy to keep himself just as busy. He'd been tracking down rare compositions to challenge his students, practicing janggu for hours a day to be sure he could keep up, brushing up on his music theory and writing lesson plans for his composition students. And then there were the actual lessons. 

He liked teaching. There was always some problem for him to work through--even with just five students, they each needed something different from him, and he enjoyed figuring out what that was, how to teach each of them best. His aimless days watching TV on Hana's couch felt like someone else's life now. Each night for the past two weeks he'd followed a set routine, returning home and cooking for the family, then setting up in the living room, sheet music and laptop spread out before him, planning lessons and finding new music on the internet. It was a difficult space to work, and for the first time he found himself thinking about finding his own place. 

"Yeah, it's been crazy," he said, smiling at Mina. "Good, though. I'm good."

Busy was best. Busy made it easier for him to keep his promise and not call Jongup to check on him. 

Not that he didn't know _anything_ ; he talked to Yongguk every few days and Junhong, Youngjae and Daehyun all texted him regularly. They'd mostly talk about other things, but one of them could generally be counted on to drop some snippet of intel on the dancer. Through these, Himchan had learned that Jongup had changed his mind and gone to his parents' house after leaving the hospital. He'd only stayed a few days before moving into Jongin's place, which had been the last piece of news Himchan got. He hoped the silence on the subject meant the dancer was healing well. It was excruciating not to know for sure.

"I'm glad. Things have been going smoothly." Mina's face didn't match her words. Her brow pinched and she paced restlessly in front of the door. Himchan frowned. 

"Are you all right?"

She bit her lip and studied him. "It's just--I mean it's probably nothing," she said. "But I've gotten a couple weird calls. A man, asking about you. I think he may be a reporter."

Himchan's stomach clenched. He tried to keep the tension out of his voice when he answered, "Yeah, I've gotten a few of them, too. I don't answer calls from numbers I don't know."

"You're not worried?"

He shrugged. "The worst already happened," he said. "I don't especially want someone dredging all that up again, but there's nothing new, so anything they write should go away pretty quickly, right?"

Mina looked relieved. "That's what I thought. I didn't give a comment, I wanted to talk to you first."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Himchan said, zipping his backpack. He'd have to do without the Ryu for now. 

"Where are you off to?" she asked. 

"Yongguk's. He managed to get me a bootleg of some composition software I think Jihye and Minjun might find useful." Himchan still felt the most out of his depths with his composition students, though he liked Jihye and Minjun very much already. It was just that he hadn't quite figured out how to teach the subject yet. He hoped the ease of a computer program would help smooth the way. 

"So that's all been fine, then? Seeing Yongguk and the others?" Mina asked a bit timidly. Himchan started to nod, then changed halfway to a shrug. 

"It's good," he said. "It's hard, too. They're going to China tomorrow, that's why I'm kind of rushing--"

She held up her hands, smiling. "I won't keep you. I do want to get the whole staff together some night for drinks soon, though, so just let me know when you're free."

"Other than tonight, literally _any_ time," Himchan said.

*

"Some of you are coming to China. Some of you aren't," Yongguk said. He winced. "Please, don't look at me like that." 

The army of Tiggers lined up against his suitcase glowered at him. Well, internally, probably. Outwardly, they all maintained their custom adorable expressions of glee, because of course they did, because they were just stuffed animals and yes he knew this was weird but he liked having them around and  _anyway._

There came a knock at the door. 

"Come in!" he bellowed with relief. Packing was stupid. He crawled to his bedroom door and gradually found his feet, stepping out into the hall to find Himchan kicking off his shoes. 

"I'm starting to think Youngjae's got a point about how you answer the door," he said with a frown. 

"I don't know why you bother knocking at all. Why don't you just use your key?" He'd given it to Himchan soon after his return. When Yongguk got the apartment, he'd had four extra keys made: one for Yongnam, one for Natasha, one for the members to keep at the dorm. He hadn't realized who he'd made the fourth one for until that the first dinner with Himchan. 

"I used it to get into the building, but, I dunno. Feels rude just barging in on you." Himchan slipped his coat off and hung it up neatly on the row of unused hooks inside the front door. He hadn't always been so fastidious. Yongguk supposed the army had instilled some new habits in him. His friend's hair was still neatly parted the way it had been his first night back, though it was growing out now. He'd ditched the tie but still looked neat as a pin in his black pants and grey button-down. 

"You look like a _teacher_ ," Yongguk observed. Himchan looked down at himself, self-conscious for a moment, and then Yongguk could see the moment he stopped caring. 

" _You_ look like one of the kids in Sangmi's class," he retorted, grinning. "This is what happens when I'm not around to curtail your obsession?"

There may have possibly been a certain Tigger theme going on with Yongguk's shorts and slippers. He vowed not to let his friend see the gathering around his suitcase. 

"Get a drink," he said, motioning to the kitchen. "I'll get that program for you."

He found the flash drive in the mess atop the stack of shoeboxes that served as his bedside table and returned to the living room. Himchan had found a bottle of soju in the fridge and was pouring out neat shots. 

"There's wine on the door, too," Yongguk told him. Himchan was wearing his glasses and peered at Yongguk over the top of them.

"Only use that for cooking, Bbang," he said. "Promise me you won't drink it; it's horrible."

"Since when are you such a snob?" Yongguk wondered. Himchan held out a glass to him and raised his eyebrows incredulously. "Oh, right. Birth."

They downed their shots in unison. "So, dinner?" Himchan said. He eyed Yongguk's outfit again. "We can get delivery."

Yongguk winced. "Actually..." he said. "I mean, that sounds great but..." Himchan just waited. "Jonguppie's back in the dorm," Yongguk said. Himchan's eyes narrowed.

"What, already? I thought he was still at Jongin's?"

"Not for a couple days now. He said it was driving him crazy staying there; I guess Jongin has some roommates Jongup doesn't like so much, so--"

"Bbang, you're all leaving for _China_ in the morning. He can't stay by himself; he can't even _walk_ \--"

"He's good on his crutches," Yongguk said. "Look, I don't like it either, but you know how stubborn he can be. I already made all these arguments two days ago and he just smiled at me."

Himchan scowled and poured himself another shot, which he swallowed in two long sips. Yongguk waited, but when he didn't say anything, he continued. "Anyway, we were going to do one last night as a group at the dorm, make sure he's in good spirits when we leave. You should come with."

Himchan gave a bark of laughter. " _That'll_ put him in good spirits," he said. He poured another shot, hesitated, then put it down on the table without drinking it. He picked up the flash drive from where Yongguk had placed it and slipped it into his pocket. 

"I think he'd like it if you were there," Yongguk said. "I know the others would." He'd been surprised and pleased to find out Junhong had been spending evenings with Himchan. The two had always been close, bickering one second and lost in their own world of inside jokes the next, and Yongguk knew the maknae had missed Himchan's presence deeply when he was gone. No doubt Himchan had felt the loss just as keenly, and it was a comfort to see him picking up where he left off with the others.

Most of the others.

Yongguk found Jongup hard to read. He supposed it wouldn't be fair to complain; he knew himself to be as much of a cipher. They had always had their quiet natures in common. Himchan had been one of the few to break through their barriers, mostly because he'd always behaved as though they weren't there. 

But now Yongguk couldn't tell what Jongup was feeling. There had been moments in the hospital that almost felt like old times, the dancer so unwilling to let Himchan worry over him and Himchan unable to stop himself. Yongguk had been glad to see it. Jongup had come a long way in the last few years, had done his best to move on, but Yongguk was certain he'd never been as happy as he'd been with Himchan. He wanted to see him that happy again. 

But after that night, Himchan hadn't come around. Yongguk had been sure they'd have to beat him away with a stick, but he hadn't come back, not to the hospital, certainly not to the Moons' or to Jongin's place. And now he looked very determined. 

"I can't."

"What d'you mean you can't?" He arched an eyebrow in challenge. "Of course you can."

Himchan avoided his gaze, picked up his glass of soju. "I promised I wouldn't," he muttered. This was news to Yongguk. 

"Promised Jongup?" he pressed. Himchan nodded. "Why?" 

Himchan sipped his soju. "Because it'd be unfair for me to keep turning up . He needs time to think. He doesn't need me breathing down his neck all the time."

"That's why you've been staying away," Yongguk realized. Oh, the cleverness of him. He felt like an idiot. He should have guessed.

"He knows he can always--like, if he needs anything, he knows I'm there for him," Himchan said quickly.

Yongguk felt fairly fucking sure that Jongup _did_ need Himchan, but at the same time..."It's good of you to do that," he said quietly. "You've been so busy the past few weeks, is this why?" He guessed Himchan would have done just about anything to keep himself busy. Distraction was a powerful tool.

"Partly. Partly trying to stay occupied, but partly..."

"What?"

He could see his friend working through something. He poured himself another shot of soju and sipped it while he waited. 

"Partly I'm just trying to...be a whole _person_ ," Himchan said slowly. "I don't know that I was, before. I was--I was part of B.A.P, and I was half of _Himchan-and-Jongup_ , then I was one of my unit in the army, and...I don't know. Whether Jongup forgives me or not, whether he ever wanted to get back together or not, I just...I want to know I can be a whole person on my own." He twisted his face at Yongguk. "Stupid?"

"Not even a little," Yongguk said. He sipped his soju to hide how he felt, which was a little shocked. Himchan had grown up. It occurred to Yongguk for the first time that his best friend would be fine, whatever happened. 

"Anyway. I should get out of here. If I make dinner, maybe I can talk Hana into letting me commandeer the living room with this stuff." Himchan motioned to his backpack. Yongguk had a thought.

"Or you could stay here," he said. 

"Uh?"

"Stay here while I'm gone. You already have a key," Yongguk pointed out. "I'll be gone, you can spread your stuff out as much as you need. Invite people over, I don't care." 

"You serious?"

He could see the tentative hope on his friend's face. "Yeah." He paused. "It's closer to the dorm," he added offhandedly. "I'm sure Jongup'll be fine, but in case anything does happen..."

"Yeah. Right." Himchan looked around the apartment assessingly. "I'm sure Hana wouldn't mind having her couch back for a few nights," he said, starting to smile. 

"You can sleep in my bed," Yongguk offered. Himchan clutched his heart. 

"Such luxury," he said. Then he narrowed his eyes. "Take your creepiest Tiggers with you to China, okay?"

*

"It's like a sunset," Daehyun said, and hiccuped. Youngjae pointed to the door with his beer bottle, only spilling a little in the process.

"If you're going to resort to cliche this early, you can just leave."

"Okay, okay, wait, wait, I can do better--it's like--like a paper towel you've been using to mop up grape juice!" Daehyun said quickly. Youngjae and Jongup exchanged a considering look. 

"You may stay," Youngjae decreed at last. 

Junhong booed from his spot on the floor. "Cast him out! Cast him out!" he chanted. Alcohol made him bloodthirsty, it seemed. From Jongup's vantage point on the couch, he could just make out half of his best friend's lanky form. He had a half-empty beer bottle loosely clutched in one hand. Jongup leaned forward to see him better and his knee gave a twinge. He ignored it; his knee was always twinging stabbing aching throbbing these days. The swelling had finally down so it looked like a knee again, and its black and purple colors had faded into something more interesting, which was the current topic of conversation.

"It's like autumn leaves," Junhong said, a bit dreamily. Youngjae gave a long, motorboat snort that in turn made Daehyun crack up. Jongup took his good leg off the coffee table and pet Junhong's cheek with his big toe. Gross, but that was all part of the fun. 

It had been two weeks and change since his fall, and Jongup was pretty sure he was losing his mind. 

TS had pushed back their MV production after Yongguk put his foot down and insisted that the group would not release a video without all members involved. Still, the single would come out on schedule. Jongup had gotten one day in the recording studio--it took a truly magnificent feat of awkwardness to fit him in front of the mic at a 90 degree angle as he was--and then he was relegated to bed rest while the others did everything else. 

He'd stayed with his parents immediately following the accident; his mother wouldn't hear otherwise. But he'd hated it. Bad enough he couldn't _do_ anything; it was immeasurably worse to be so far away from the action. 

Moving in with Jongin had been a bit better; his brother had video games and a decent collection of comics gathering dust on his bookshelf and he wouldn't give Jongup the side-eye too badly if he napped in the middle of the day--but Jongup could also sense his brother wanting to _talk_ about things. Himchan things. Jongup wasn't sure what there was left to say. When Himchan got involved, Jongup's thoughts got complicated. So he avoided Jongin's gaze until he couldn't anymore, at which point he moved back to the dorm.

His knee ached constantly and he was bored out of his mind, but the dorm was still better. The members kept him abreast of what was going on in the studio, how each day's recording went, the plans for promotions in China. And it had been Daehyun who, upon hearing that Jongup was finally done with his hardcore pain meds, had disappeared for an hour and returned with arms full of snacks and beer, declaring grandly "IT IS TIME TO DRINK AS MEN DO."

They had finished the snacks in record time and had moved onto the beer, which they paired with Daehyun's asking of inane questions like _What do Jonguppie's bruises remind you of?_

"Autumn leaves when they're kind of...rotting on the sidewalk," Junhong confirmed, swatting Jongup's foot away lazily. He rested the neck of his beer bottle precariously on his chin and tried to drink without lifting his head. "'E 'eed s'raws," he mumbled as gravity failed to work with him. 

There was a light knock and the front door opened. Yongguk's arms were full (" _Food!"_ Daehyun bellowed blissfully as if he hadn't single-stomachedly finished off the majority of the snacks fifteen minutes earlier) and he kicked the door shut behind him before collapsing on the floor next to Junhong. 

"Hyung!" the dancer said happily, thus upsetting his bottle and sending it to the floor beside his head. 

"Eurgh," Daehyun commented as Junhong grimaced, trying unsuccessfully to shield himself from the spreading beer puddle.

"Alcohol strengthens hair follicles," Youngjae said solemnly, lifting his bottle in salute before passing a new one to Yongguk.

"Sorry, Junhongie," the rapper said, pulling the maknae into a sitting position. "Was that your first drink?"

Youngjae gave another motorboat snort.

"Yes, hyung," Junhong lied dutifully. Jongup hid his head under a pillow to muffle his laughter, and shielded his ribs from Youngjae, who could never just laugh like a normal person but had to hit whoever was nearest at the same time. 

"Drink up, hyung," Daehyun said to Yongguk. The eldest gave Junhong a suspicious look as he cut a slightly wavy path to the kitchen sink to wash the beer out of his hair. Youngjae attempted to mop up the spilled drink with the pile of empty chip wrappers, which worked extremely well. 

"What did I miss?" Yongguk asked, downing half his beer in a single elegant sip. Yongguk was so cool. Jongup wondered if he would be that cool someday. 

"We're writing poems about my knee," he said. Yongguk rose to his own knees to peer at it. Jongup had been wearing loose basketball shorts for four days, and he was freezing. He needed activity to warm up. His blood felt cold and congealed in his veins. 

"It's a constellation of pain," Yongguk said seriously. Jongup gaped at him. 

"How is it you're good at everything?" Daehyun complained. "I hate you." He was drunk and he was loud and he was also upside down, legs up on the back of the couch while his head dangled off the seat. Yongguk scratched his chin like a cat and the vocalist preened. Jongup was glad to see them acting normal towards each other again. He'd been aware enough to notice how strained things had been between his hyungs directly following the run-in with the reporter, and he was happy to see them revert to form now. 

Junhong returned, hair plastered to his forehead in wet clumps. He wiped off his face with the bottom of his t-shirt, grabbed a new beer and sank onto the floor beside Yongguk. 

"Movie?" he suggested. 

"Top notch notion," Daehyun declared upside-downedly. 

"I thought we were writing poetry?" Yongguk said. 

" _I_ thought we were giving Jonguppie a real send-off," Youngjae said. Jongup squinted at him. 

"I'm not the one going somewhere," he pointed out. Youngjae conceded the point. 

"Okay. The opposite of a send-off, then."

"A keep-on!" Daehyun bellowed. Youngjae smothered him lovingly with a pillow, staring at Jongup all the while. His eyes had that creepy focus he got when he was drinking. 

"You know where all the emergency numbers are?"

"In my phone?" Jongup guessed. Youngjae seemed at a loss for other questions he could ask. He looked around to the others for help. 

"Do you know where your glasses are?" Junhong asked, resting his chin on Jongup's good knee. Cold water trickled out of his hair and onto Jongup's leg. He grimaced and shifted away gently.

"In my...room..." he said slowly, realizing he did _not,_ in fact, know where they were. But his bedroom seemed like a good guess.

"Let's find them," Yongguk said, rising. He held out a hand to Jongup, but he ignored it. If he was going to reassure his hyungs he'd be all right on his own for half a week, he needed to show them he could get around by himself. 

He was getting pretty good with his crutches, at least, although he hated them. He hated their ungainly clomping. He'd spent so long making his body into the perfect instrument and had ignored the possibility that it might one day not be able to do exactly what he wanted. It felt like _betrayal._

Still. He pulled himself up and clomped his way to his bedroom, ignoring the slight waver to his vision thanks to the beers. It had been awhile since he'd had a drink.

He was aware of Yongguk following, was aware they were probably going to have to fight this out again. The rapper hated the idea of leaving any member  alone. 

Jongup began rifling through the mess on his bedside table, trying to recall the last time he'd seen his glasses. He didn't think he'd had them at Jongin's...

"Himchan," Yongguk said, and Jongup stopped. "He's, um. He's staying at my place while we're gone."

"Why?" Jongup didn't turn around, but he couldn't seem to get his hands moving again, either.

"He's got a lot to do with the orchestra, and I think it's been hard for him to focus at Hana's. Plus he hasn't slept in a bed in a month."

Jongup winced. Himchan was prone to cramping; his neck and back must be nothing but knots after a month of sleeping on a couch. 

"Makes sense," was all he said. He got his hands moving again, searching among his sheets. 

"So if you need anything, he's close by," Yongguk went on. 

"Got it." Jongup lifted the edge of his pillow and ah! There they were. He slipped them on, marveling, as always, at the difference his prescription made. Still, he didn't turn back to Yongguk, straightening his sheets instead. "How's the orchestra going, anyway?"

He'd heard about it from Junhong, who seemed to be texting with Himchan constantly. Jongup had told him repeatedly that it was fine, that none of them needed to hide this from him. He was happy--honestly--knowing that the others were back in touch with Himchan. Junhong had gone a step further, though, and kept Jongup up-to-date with everything about the older man's life. He wasn't sure whether to be grateful or annoyed. 

"Really well, I think," Yongguk said. "He's working really hard. You should see him; he looks like such a teacher."

Jongup did turn back at that. Yongguk gave him a level look. "He told me about your...conversation," he went on carefully. "I think it's good you have space. But promise me if you do need anything you'll call him, okay?"

Jongup tried not to shift uncomfortably. He didn't love the idea of his hyungs discussing him. Discussing what was _best_ for him. Like he was...well, a kid. He pushed away the flare of anger. Wondered if he'd ever get over being pissed at Himchan for the simple fact of his being older. 

"Don't worry, hyung," he said. Yongguk smiled a little.

"Can't help it," he said. 

Junhong poked his head in the room. "I spy _glasses!_ " he bellowed, and there were cheers from the common room. "Come back out, hyungs," the maknae wheedled. "Let's watch a movie."

*

They left. 

Jongup couldn't remember the last time he'd been alone, _really_ alone. It was heaven.

Well, it was _nice._ It was...fine.

For a few hours. 

The trouble was his damn knee. If he hadn't been hurt, it would have been great. He tried blaring his music, relishing the reality of no Daehyun coming to bellow along to the songs in his ear. But music made him miss dancing so much that he ached all over. 

He put on the TV and tried to get lost in some drama the way the singers liked to. (Youngjae always mocked them, of course, and Dae would pretend to do the same, but his eyes always welled up at the sad bits and he always shushed the others during the kiss scenes and had to hide his face during the fights and basically he didn't fool anyone.) But Jongup had no patience for the issues keeping the couples apart. It always came down to them not fucking _talking_ to each other like adults; everything was a big avoidable misunderstanding.

Also, he didn't want to think about kissing.

Jonghwan had brought him a giant stack of manga one afternoon, but Jongup couldn't concentrate. His knee hurt. You'd think at some point it would settle down or he'd get used to it or something, but every day it just went right on hurting. He technically could have gotten his pain med prescription refilled, but he'd done some reading and the internet had informed him that his meds could be highly habit-forming. On the whole he preferred the pain. 

His friends texted as much as possible, Junhong FaceTimed him, they all chatted on twitter and on their private group chat, but still--by his third day on his own, Jongup had resorted to reading the news for entertainment. 

(Normally he counted on Yongguk to tell them what was going on in the world. Even when it was all horrible, there was just something comforting about hearing about it from the rapper--it had to be something about his voice.)

At first, he scrolled right past. His brain took a few seconds to catch up to what his eyes had seen. He stopped. Noted the way he'd stopped breathing for a beat, made himself breathe normally again. He was sitting on the floor in the kitchen in what he'd decided was the perfect spot: here he could reach the refrigerator and keep his phone plugged in. He'd dragged a few pillows over to make it more comfortable.

_You're imagining things_ , he told himself sternly, scrolling back on the news feed. _You've just been on your own too long, too much time to think about--_ But there it was again, clearly not all in his head: Himchan's name, in a headline. Jongup clicked on the article and speed-read. 

"Shit."

*

"We've had a few calls from some parents, but not as many as you might think," Mina said. Himchan rolled his eyes. 

"If that's meant to be reassuring..."

"Look, that article was shit and everyone knows it. They made out like you're some sort of drug addict, a danger to the kids, it's bullshit!" Her voice went high with indignation and Himchan smiled ruefully. Of all the people to be in his corner now, he wouldn't have guessed it would be Mina.

He was seated on the floor in Yongguk's kitchen, the better to reach the terrible wine in the fridge if he decided he was desperate enough to drink it. So far he was breathing, and counting, and letting Mina rail against the unfairness of it all. Better her than him, he figured; if he started, he was afraid he'd never stop.

"We're releasing a statement of support," she went on. "They can't just do this."

"Don't, Mina. Don't bring the orchestra into it. Maybe it'd be better if I just, you know..."

"If you _what_." Her voice went icy.

"Back off before it gets worse."

He heard her suck in her breath and he winced, bracing himself for the explosion. "Why should you back off? You didn't do anything wrong! That damned reporter just made shit up and he isn't going to get away with it, I swear to God he's not." He could _hear_ her glare, and he was glad not to be on the wrong side of her anger for once. "Listen, just--sit tight, okay? You're at Yongguk's?"

"Yeah, for a few more days." That was one good thing at least; Himchan doubted anyone would think to look for him here, especially with the group out of the country. He'd already warned Hana and his parents that they might get some calls. 

"Good. Stay there. I'm going to take care of this. It'll be fine, okay? Everyone knows you haven't done anything wrong, that article was so clearly trying to make something out of nothing. That guy was just pissed I wouldn't give him a quote when he called earlier."

"Okay." Himchan felt strangely distant from the whole thing. The article clearly _was_ a load of crap, painting him as a dangerous drug addict and the orchestra as irresponsible for putting him in charge of children. As if his drug use weren't a thing of the past and as if it had ever hurt anyone but him.

Still, years as an idol had taught Himchan that sometimes, what a thing really _was_ was less important than how it looked. If enough parents believed there was some truth to the article, he'd have to quit rather than risk them withdrawing their kids from the orchestra.

"Better keep your phone off for awhile," Mina advised. "And try to keep busy. Plan on coming back on Monday, okay? Give it the weekend to blow over."

That had been in the morning. Now it was closing in on evening and Himchan was doing his best to stay busy.  

He'd sent off a quick email to Kyung, who was sure to find this whole thing absurd and hilarious. He did a little light snooping ( _fourteen_ new tiggers, Bbang, seriously?). He did some push-ups and some crunches and took a shower and was just about to clean the bathroom when there was a knock at the door. 

At the _door_. 

He froze for a second. It could be Yongnam or Natasha; they had keys to the building. Maybe they'd forgotten their brother's schedule. 

He kind of doubted it. He combed his fingers frantically through his damp hair and stepped lightly to the door. Wondered how easy it would be for a reporter to sneak inside behind a resident. 

He opened the door. 

"Hi," Jongup said.

*

Himchan's hair was wet and he had on his glasses and a plain t-shirt and sweats and all Jongup could think was _oh fuck_ , because he looked really, really good.

All he could _say_ was "hi." Like an idiot. Like he'd thought this through at all. Himchan gaped at him for a beat, then collected himself. 

"Come in--how'd you get here?" He peered past Jongup into the hall as though there might be a hovercraft or whatever parked next to the door.

"Subway." Jongup thumped into the apartment. He had on a puffer jacket that was too warm on top, while his legs, still in shorts, were freezing. 

" _Sub_ \--you didn't take a cab? C'mon, sit down--" Himchan was fluttering around like an anxious hen. Somehow, seeing him so flustered made Jongup relax. He wasn't sure if this was mean of him or not. He collapsed onto the couch, raising his leg in front of him. 

"Won't really fit in a cab these days," he said, nodding to his leg. Himchan nodded and disappeared into the kitchen, returning a second later with a glass of water. Jongup realized his mouth was dry, and he accepted the drink gratefully. Himchan perched on the chair nearby, eyeing Jongup's crutches. 

"You must be pretty good on those, then."

Jongup ignored this, focused on Himchan. He looked good. He looked _wary_ , but good. "I saw the article," he told him. Himchan scrunched up his nose and mussed his hair. "Are you okay?"

"Of course. I'm fine."

"Your phone was off."

Himchan looked up quickly. "Shit, I didn't even thi--are you all right? Did you need anything?" He looked Jongup over again as if searching for an injury--besides the knee, Jongup supposed.

"Just to make sure you're okay," he said. "That article was crap."

To his surprise, Himchan relaxed, even smiled a little. "It was," he said. He leaned back in his seat, laced his fingers together over his stomach. "Slow news week or something, I guess." He tilted his head. "I'm sorry if you were worried. It's not great, but I think it'll be okay. Mina's on the warpath, at any rate."

"I don't get how reporters can just make stuff up."

"He didn't." Himchan met Jongup's startled look with a wry smile. "I had to read it a few times, but he didn't _actually_ make anything up; it's all in what he _suggests_." His tone turned sour. 

"It's still crap," Jongup said. Himchan smiled at him again. 

"I agree," he said. 

There was a moment of silence in which Jongup registered that they were alone. That he was really _here_. He'd left the dorm in such a hurry after finding the article, sure Himchan would be freaking out and beating himself up over things long finished. He was glad to find he'd been wrong on that count, but faced with the older man's calm, he no longer knew what it was he wanted to do. 

"Have you eaten?" Himchan's tone was hesitant. Jongup looked up sharply. "I was going to get take-out, but there's actually some food in the kitchen that'll go off if no one eats it...I could cook."

That was a bad idea. _This_ , Jongup being here at all, was a bad idea. His brain was getting all muddled again. Himchan looked so _good_ and just being with him like this made Jongup feel better than he had in weeks. He should definitely go. 

"Okay," he said. 

*

Himchan had no qualms about stacking a pile of Yongguk's pillows in the corner of the kitchen so Jongup could hang out while he cooked. 

Jongup had lots of qualms about how comfortable this whole thing felt. He could see Himchan being careful, though, not to touch him, not to flirt. This was good. This sucked. Muddled, muddled, muddled. 

In the end, they ate seated on the floor, legs stretched out in twin V's with the food laid out between them. Himchan told Jongup about his students, clear pride in his voice. (If the article fucked the orchestra up for him, Jongup was going to find that reporter and...something. He'd figure it out when he got there.)

They talked about the other members. Jongup told some light, funny stories of things Himchan had missed, just stupid stuff from around the dorm. 

It was fun. It was relaxing. 

It wasn't enough. Jongup was starting to realize that, when it came to Himchan, there _was_ no "enough." Only _everything_ would ever be enough. He should really leave.

He stayed.

They'd finally broken out some soju and Himchan's cheeks had gone pink and Jongup could feel himself staring and couldn't find it in him to stop. 

He should _really_ leave.

The buzzer rang. 

They exchanged a wide-eyed look, then Himchan rose with enviable ease and approached the small white box on the wall. It buzzed again. He gave Jongup a nervous look, then pressed the button.

"Hello?" Unconsciously or not, he pitched his voice extra low to sound like Yongguk, and Jongup almost burst into hysterical laughter. If that was a reporter down there...

" _Uglyyyyyy, let me up_!" an unfamiliar voice bellowed. Himchan froze. Pressed the button again. 

"What are you doing here?" he hissed. Whoever was down there made a rude sound in response. Himchan looked at Jongup, who waited for an explanation. "Um," Himchan said. The buzzer went again, again, again. He rolled his eyes and pressed the release button, then returned to Jongup. 

"I--I'm so sorry," he said quickly. "There's really no way for me to prepare you for what's coming up that elevator right now."

"Who is it?" Jongup asked. If he'd thought Himchan looked flustered before, it was nothing to this. He was stacking their dishes compulsively and looked like he was about to crawl out of his skin. Jongup managed to get his crutches under him and got off the floor.

There was a banging at the front door. Himchan let out a loud sigh. 

"Sorry," he said again. 

He went to the door and opened it and a vaguely fish-eyed man stepped around him, already talking. 

"Chan- _dog_ ," he said loudly, slapping Himchan on the back as he passed. "You send me that email and then shut off your phone? Naughty. Making me worry about you--" He pitched his voice high and pinched Himchan's cheek. Himchan batted his hand away. The man caught sight of Jongup in the kitchen doorway. "Oh," he said, sounding slightly more normal. Himchan moved to stand between the two men. 

"Moon Jongup," he said. "Meet Lee Kyung."


	10. Chapter 10

Jongup had never heard of Lee Kyung, but the man had the same military haircut as Himchan and Jongup could put two and two together. The newcomer looked him up and down frankly. 

"You're shorter than you look on TV," he said. "Glad to finally meet you, man. Sorry about your leg, that sucks. Oh hey, don't stay standing on my account--" He pointed to the couch and punched Himchan's shoulder. 

"Why," Himchan complained flatly, rubbing the spot. "But yeah, we can sit. Did you eat?" he asked.

"Did you _cook_?" Kyung countered. Himchan rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Bowls are in the cabinet next to the microwave," he said. Kyung let out a whoop--Himchan winced--and darted into the kitchen. 

Jongup wasn't sure whether to laugh. Kyung was like a glass of ice water to the face; the tension of the past few hours (had it been only in Jongup's mind? He didn't _think_ so, but--) was shattered by his arrival.

"Army buddy?" he surmised.

"Professional pain in my ass for two years running," Himchan said grumpily. ("I can _hear_ you!" Kyung sang out from the kitchen.) "C'mon, sit down, you should keep your knee up--" He retrieved a few of the cushions from the kitchen floor and returned them to the couch. 

"I shouldn't go?" Jongup asked. "Let you two catch up?"

"No no no, don't go!" This was from Kyung, who came into the room with a terrifyingly full bowl of food, three shot glasses and a bottle of soju tucked under his chin. He set his bowl down carefully and began to pour out neat shots, passing them around before settling onto the chair, legs crossed, facing Jongup. "I'm dying to meet you. Bang Yongguk isn't here? Isn't this his apartment?"

"How did you even find me here?" Himchan asked. Kyung puffed out his chest a little. 

"I spoke to the lovely Hana. Ugly, how is it you never thought to mention your noona is so--"

"Married?" Himchan said pointedly. Kyung clucked his tongue. 

"Nice, Sarge. She's so _nice_. Guess there was none of that left by the time you came around, eh?"

"Right." Himchan rolled his eyes. He glanced at Jongup, who couldn't remember ever seeing him quite this uncomfortable. "You know, you really didn't have to come all the way to Seoul. It was just a stupid article."

Kyung snorted. "No shit it was a stupid article. Look, not to alarm you or anything, but not everything is about you." He picked up his bowl and slurped at some of the broth. "Shit, I'd come all the way to Seoul for _this,_ though..."

"Then why are you here?" Himchan asked. Kyung looked up from his food, his look of intense enjoyment fading. 

"Kyungeun's having dinner with our old man," he said. 

Himchan raised an eyebrow. "How did _that_ happen?"

" _Apparently_ he started turning up the last few months or so, all gung-ho to play Appa to his kids." Kyung's voice was sourly mocking. He turned to Jongup, who'd been sitting lost through this conversation. "My father's a deadbeat, took off years ago, left my three dongsaengs without a word. Our tragic backstory."

"He left you, too," Himchan said quietly. Kyung raised his left shoulder and stirred his food around in his bowl.

"Yeah, but he was an asshole so I didn't care so much," he said offhandedly. "Kyungeun's the nice one in the family and she keeps agreeing to see him. But there was no fucking way I was sending her to Seoul alone, and she sure as hell didn't need to _stay_ with the fuck, so here I am, being possessed of a credit card with a high enough limit to get a decent hotel room. Seemed like a good time to drop in on my old Sarge while I was at it, seeing as you sounded so fucking despondent last time we talked, and haven't bothered to fucking call me since."

He fixed Himchan with a pointed glare. Jongup had his glass at his lips but paused mid-sip, trying to guess when Himchan might have sounded so upset. He thought he had an idea. The older man was carefully avoiding his gaze. 

"I've been busy. I _did_ text you," he said. Kyung waved a hand, almost upsetting his bowl. 

"Anyfuck. It's good to see you and it's _very_ good to meet _you_." He turned to Jongup, who froze. "How long's your leg out of commission?"

"At least six weeks, so a little under four to go," Jongup said. 

"You must be losing your mind," Kyung said with sympathy. "I remember seeing you dance--Chan told you about that, right?"

Jongup blinked. "No..."

They both looked at Himchan, who shrank slightly into the back of the couch. Jongup caught him giving Kyung a quick, quelling look. 

"What?" Kyung said. "C'mon, it's a good story! Fuck knows we don't have many of those."

"I like stories," Jongup said, making Himchan look around at him sharply. Maybe it was mean when he was so clearly ill at ease, but Jongup was almost desperately curious. It wasn't like Himchan to be so tight-lipped, and this was two years of his life that were still a complete mystery. 

"Who doesn't?" Kyung said cheerfully. He took a huge bite of food and rearranged himself in his seat while he chewed. "Okay, so. Hard as it is to imagine, Channie and I weren't always the bosom companions we are today--"

Himchan snorted and Kyung waved a hand in his general direction. "In fact it took forever for him to stop being such an asshole and make friends." He shook his head, laughing a little. "Fucking so weird to think about now, but he started off all rule-abiding and _stoic_."

Jongup was having trouble imagining this. Himchan had never been all that much for the rules, preferring to do whatever the hell he wanted and apologizing with that brilliant smile afterwards. And stoic he generally was _not_. But then, Jongup supposed if someone had met _him_ in the days just after Himchan had left, they'd have some weird ideas of who he was, too. 

"Right, so. I did my best to be friendly--"

"Ha!" The scoff burst out of Himchan apparently before he could stop himself. "You weren't _friendly_ ; you wanted to see how hard you could push before I'd punch you in the face--"

"I'd have taken a punch," Kyung agreed. He studied Himchan, a funny little smile on his face. Jongup wasn't entirely sure he liked the familiar way he looked at him. "Getting a rise out of you would've been preferable to the alternative, I was thinking."

Himchan stared back blankly. "What alternative?"

Kyung gave an outrageous shrug and downed his soju quickly. "You were so miserable in those early days I half-thought you were gonna fucking hurt yourself or something."

Jongup's heart gave a painful lurch in his chest. Himchan was still staring at Kyung. 

"That's--I'd never do that," he said. Kyung raised both eyebrows at him.

"Thanks for the clarification," he said dryly. "Having lived a meter away from you for the past two years, I still find you _quite_ the fucking enigma, Chan." He turned back to Jongup. "So anyway, yeah, I maybe took a _little_ joy in torturing our boy, all in fun of course--but so there was this one night, maybe...what, four months in? Five?" He looked to Himchan for verification. Himchan still looked rather shaken, and just shrugged. "Right, well. He was supposed to be on rounds that night, but he switches with this guy Song--or Woo? not the point, right--and a couple of us find him in the barracks, acting shifty as hell."

Himchan was looking shifty as hell _now_. Jongup would have done something to try to put him out of his misery, but he was too curious to get Kyung to stop talking.

"It takes a minute for us to figure out he's got his civvies on under his coat, and from there it's just a hop, skip and a jump to figuring out he's planning to sneak out. I couldn't fucking believe it, our rule freak over here--but we finally get him to admit it, and when we do, he's all _ahh, there's something I want to watch on TV."_ Here, he performed a rather stunning mimicry of Himchan's voice, and Jongup could see Himchan's unwilling smile in response--not unlike Yongguk's expression when the members imitated _him_. 

"You didn't have TV in the barracks?" Jongup asked. That was kind of a horrifying thought.

"Nah, we did, but we had to earn TV _privileges_ ," Kyung said, rolling his eyes. "Our CO had--our Commanding Officer, I mean--he had _ideas_ about television. If you didn't catch him in just the right mood, with the moon on the wane--"

"With Mars in the sixth house," Himchan chimed in. Kyung pointed at him approvingly.

"With the wind blowing _just so_ \--basically, there was no way he was gonna let some lowly Private pick the channel, okay? So Kimmy here decided to sneak out."

" _Kimmy_ ," Himchan grumbled, giving Kyung a disgruntled look the other man took no notice of. Their interactions had the well-treaded feel of family. Jongup tried to be glad of it, glad that Himchan had found this with someone while he was away. At the same time, though, he couldn't help but envy their ease with each other. They didn't seem to practice the same casual physical intimacy that was such a part of B.A.P, but their bickering had a comfortable rhythm, and for all his grousing, Himchan clearly wasn't truly angry with the other man, and Kyung knew it. 

Kyung was still talking. "And you've gotta understand how fucking _cooped up_ we all felt at that point, you know? We'd done boot camp and then they sent us to our official assignments and we'd been on base and doing the same rounds day after day for months without a chance to blow off steam. So--there were like four of us, not including Channie, and we all decided to come along. We all got dressed in whatever normal-looking shit we could find, and then we tiptoed right the fuck off the base."

" _Tiptoed_ ," Himchan scoffed. "I paid Woo to look the other way."

"It was dark, dangerous business," Kyung told Jongup solemnly. Jongup glanced at Himchan and had to work not to laugh at his expression. "But with wit and guile, we made it out undetected. 

"And so we're in this town, right, location undisclosable. Chan leads us to this bar. And we get in there and we all start giving him shit because there's no _girls_ there, you know? It's not that kinda place, it's like an _old timer_ place, the kind of bar that the same crowd of working guys have been going to every day after their shift for thirty years to sit in the same seats and have the same conversations--that kind of place. 

"But! There are some big-ass TV's above the bar, so we finally figure out Channie wasn't kidding about wanting to watch something. Only thing is he's somehow got to convince this bar full of grizzled old guys to change the channel for _him_. I figured it was impossible. But I hadn't seen him turn on that Kim Himchan mother fucking _charm_ yet!" Kyung grinned and shook his head. "So he finally tells us what it is he's so keen to watch, and--well, it's you." He motioned at Jongup, who looked at Himchan again. Himchan's eyes flickered over to meet his briefly, then landed back on Kyung. He was sitting rather stiffly on the edge of his seat, as though ready to launch himself at the other man should he say something he wasn't supposed to. 

"Me?" Jongup said. 

"You were in some dance competition?" Kyung said. 

Of course. Jongup thought of his neck pillow, now stuffed away between his regular pillows. He looked at Himchan, whose face was a careful blank. Jongup hesitated, very aware of Kyung's presence. He wondered what he knew. Not everything, he didn't think, unless he was a very good actor. But fuck it. 

"I got the pillow," Jongup told Himchan. "I should've said thanks. It helped."

Himchan gave him a small, shy smile. "Good."

"What pillow?" Kyung said loudly. Himchan rolled his eyes.

"Is story time over yet?" he asked. 

"We haven't even _gotten_ there yet!" Kyung said indignantly. He turned back to Jongup. "So like the rest of us get some beers and settle in a corner to just relax, right, but Chan starts working the room, buying people drinks left and right, talking you up, all proud as fuck of his dongsaeng, all _you've never seen anything like this guy_ and _he's a national treasure_ and _you'll want to be able to say you were there when_ \--on and on and on. And these old guys are starting to laugh at him like _who_ is _this pabo_ , and so he goes and lays it on even thicker, like, _this dancer'll heal cancer and pay off the mortgage on your house_ \--"

Jongup burst out laughing.

"Oh my God. I did _not_ ," Himchan sputtered. 

"I am _barely_ exaggerating," Kyung assured Jongup. Himchan was holding the bottle of soju in front of his face but Jongup could see his cheeks were pink again and he was smiling. The dancer couldn't help grinning himself at the thought--because he'd seen the way Himchan could charm a crowd. There was no one else in the world who could do it as well. 

"So the rest of us start getting into it, spreading the word, passing out drinks, getting the crowd riled up and they're getting curious and drunk and then, like magic, it's time for the show and the bartender? He _changes the fucking channel_. Insane! And the show starts and that girl went first? Which did _not_ hurt, let me tell you--" Kyung turned to Himchan as if struck. "Come to think of it, we really should have played up the whole dancing girls aspect, might've gotten us there faster--"

Himchan raised both hands as if to say _what can you do?_ and Kyung nodded.

"Right, bygones, right. Anyway, so the first couple acts are girls and then there's that one guy who's like a fucking contortionist or something, but the thing is the whole bar's getting _into_ it, now, right? Like picking out their favorites and like everyone's fucking _watching_. And then, finally, _you_ come on."

Jongup had a thrill of retrospective nerves at the thought. He glanced at Himchan again. He was chewing on his lower lip and staring fixedly at his knees, but he seemed to sense Jongup's attention because his eyes flickered up to meet his. Jongup didn't even know what kind of face he was making. He'd been comforted at the time to think that Himchan might be thinking of him--the gift of the neck pillow had been the first semblance of contact they'd had since the older man left--but he'd never imagined Himchan would actually find a way to _watch_ him. 

Kyung continued in his rambling way. "So you start dancing and you do that double flip thing? And the whole place erupts in _fucking cheers._ Like _epic_ , man, everyone's so into it. And _this guy_ \--" He pointed to Himchan with his spoon, then stopped. Something strange flickered across his face, too fast for Jongup to decipher. 

When he spoke again, his voice had gone lower, almost subdued. "Well, no hyung's ever been prouder, I'll tell you that," he said, and laughed, taking a long sip of soju. "The whole bar thought you were robbed, honestly, you should've taken first place."

"Second was okay," Jongup said, looking at Himchan again. Or had he ever even looked away? "So you didn't get in trouble for sneaking out?"

Kyung laughed again and Jongup forced himself to look at him rather than Himchan. "Oh no; we got busted the _second_ we got back on base. And okay, I mean, fair enough. By rights were all should've been on grunt duty for a week, but Chan here has to go and be _noble_ , as usual, and he makes out like he was the one who snuck out, and the rest of us were bringing him in. CO knows it's bullshit, of course, but he didn't care. I think he thought you'd cave and turn us in," he added to Himchan, who smiled slightly. 

"He hated me," he said. 

"Even more after you took that three weeks of shit without complaining once," Kyung said, grinning. Himchan's eyes darted over to Jongup again.

"Worth it," he said. Warmth flooded Jongup's belly and he had to look away. 

"Well yeah, it was worth it, that's the night you finally made _friends_ with everybody!" Kyung agreed. "Which you could've done from the start if you'd just been nice, but we don't need to talk about that."

"Like that's ever stopped you," Himchan said. 

"Oh--" Kyung waved a hand and continued eating. Somehow, he'd been eating the entire time he'd been telling his story and Jongup hadn't noticed. He wondered if he could give Daehyun lessons in food-related multi-tasking. 

"Seriously, you're very long-winded," Himchan told him. 

"You never answered my question," Kyung said. "Where's Bang Yongguk? I thought I was _finally_ going to meet the guy, and now I'm here in his fucking apartment and he's AWOL? I know you said he's shy, but--"

"He's in China," Himchan said. "With the group. I'm just crashing here while he's gone."

Kyung looked disappointed, but quickly turned his attention onto Jongup--a slightly alarming place to be, the dancer was finding. 

"Then you'll just have to tell me all about being an idol!" he said brightly. "Feel free to include as many embarrassing stories about Chan as you possibly can."

Well, now. This, Jongup could do.

*

It wasn't so bad, really. Kyung could talk as much as Daehyun but he was a good listener, too, and asked good questions. Jongup couldn't help but like him, and an hour was gone before he even realized it. They probably could have gone on longer, but Kyung's phone went off. 

"Shit," he said, looking at the display. "Kyungeun's on her way back to the hotel already; I should get going so I can meet her."

"I didn't even realize it was so late," Himchan said, rising. "No, leave your bowl, I'll get it later. Go meet your sister."

"She's meeting up with friends tomorrow," Kyung said. "We're staying the weekend. We can go out." He looked at Jongup. "You come too," he said, more order than invitation. "We'll find somewhere cool that'll fit your leg."

Jongup couldn't think of a reason to refuse that wasn't _but my feelings are all confused_ , so he just said okay and waved as Himchan walked his friend to the door. There were some painful-looking back slaps and one unsportsmanlike shin-kick, and Kyung was gone. Himchan returned and collapsed in his vacated seat. 

"I'm sorry he's so annoying," he said. 

"I like him," Jongup said. Himchan studied him. 

"Yeah?" 

Jongup nodded. He could see Himchan was pleased. His hair had gone fluffy as it dried over the past several hours, and Jongup couldn't help really liking the way his shoulders stretched the fabric of his t-shirt.

This was dangerous territory. He'd spent way too much of the evening staring.

"I should--probably go too," he said reluctantly. Himchan frowned. 

"It's late, Jongup-ah, and it's cold out--are you sure you don't just want to stay? You can have Bbang's bed, I'm so used to the couch by now." 

Jongup tried to imagine sleeping with Himchan just a room away, with no one else in the apartment. The thought made him feel like he had ants crawling under his skin, and he could think of only one way to calm them. 

"I--can't," he said. "I left my painkillers at the dorm." No need for Himchan to know he'd stopped taking them. 

"Oh." The single syllable was very neutral. "Of course. Hang on a sec--" Himchan rose and went into Yongguk's bedroom. He emerged a moment later wearing one of Yongguk's hoodies--dammit, his hair was even more mussed now and Jongup wanted nothing more than to run his hand through it and calm it down--and carrying what turned out to be a pair of sweat pants. "It's cold, you're not going back out there in shorts."

Cold? Jongup was burning alive. Himchan's fingers were a brand where they brushed Jongup's skin as he handed over the sweats. He could swear his blood was boiling in his body.

He put on the pants. He had to get out of here or he was going to do something stupid--stupid, and unfair. He didn't even know what he was thinking yet, and he couldn't, _wouldn't_ , do the things he was imagining until he was sure what he wanted. He owed Himchan that much.

Himchan was jingling his keys. "You ready?" 

Jongup stared at him, noting that he'd slipped his shoes on at some point. "What?"

Himchan stuffed his hands in his pockets and smiled slightly. "It's late," he repeated. "And cold. You're not walking back by yourself, okay? I've been stuck inside all day, anyway; I could use some air."

Jongup knew better than to argue.

The night had grown much colder than he'd expected, and he was grateful for the extra layer of clothing. He let his face be buffeted by the wind. His cheeks still felt overly warm. He was glad of his crutches, for once, the way he had to concentrate on them, the way they kept his hands occupied. 

They couldn't take all his focus, though. He was very aware of Himchan beside him. Even without looking over, his brain filled in the shape of him, the familiar swing of his free arm while he kept his other hand tucked in one pocket. 

"What he said--" Jongup spoke up. "About--how you were, in the beginning, when you guys first met."

_I thought you were gonna fucking hurt yourself._

"Yes." Himchan's voice was very low. Jongup struggled to put his question into words. Was Kyung right? Even if Himchan would never do that--and he _would_ never--if he'd seemed that way to a stranger...Jongup had spent so long thinking of his own misery in the days after Himchan left that now he was realizing he hadn't spared much thought for what the other man had gone through. He'd given up everything. His life had changed completely. To protect Jongup. 

The guilt was a burning coal in his chest.

"Kyung dramatizes," Himchan said. "He can't help himself. I was...I was sad, that's all."

The urge to slip his hand into the other man's pocket, find his hand and hold it, was very strong. But Jongup needed both hands for his crutches. Good crutches. Stupid crutches.

They reached the subway and he had to focus on getting down the escalator in one piece. The platform was empty save for a few other late-night stragglers, a cluster of girls who had to be _freezing_ in their dresses but who chattered away happily; a man in a suit with a sleeping boy in his arms; an old woman with her walking stick planted firmly in front of her. 

Himchan and Jongup sat at the end of one of the long wooden benches. Jongup's leg stretched awkwardly in front of him. He needed to say something. He had to say something. 

"I'm sorry," he said. Himchan frowned at him. 

"What for?"

The reasons welled up in his throat--sorry he hadn't figured out what was really going on two years ago, sorry he hadn't been able to wait until they got home to kiss Himchan the night of their release party, sorry he was still so angry over the time they'd lost that he couldn't bring himself to reach over and take his hand now. 

"I'm sorry you were sad," he said inadequately. "I'm glad you...made friends." He felt stupid saying it, no matter it was true. Himchan needed _people_ ; he always had. They didn't wear him out the way they did Jongup. He hated the thought of the older man being alone for months at a time. 

Himchan was staring at the tunnel as if he could will the train to appear. Jongup wished he hadn't said anything. He'd gotten better at interviews over the years, wasn't so shy speaking up with the fans and on TV. But the stuff that really _mattered_ still seemed to stick in his throat, to lose something when he tried to say it out loud. Himchan opened his mouth as if to respond, then closed it again. Jongup cast about for something to break the silence, some lifeline to drag them out of awkward territory.

Instead, he asked, "Why'd you call me?"

Himchan frowned and turned to him. "What? My phone was off all day, remember?"

"Not today. Like...six months ago?"

He hadn't meant to ask. He'd resolutely pushed the call away, had done his best to convince himself he'd been imagining things, or that it had been a mistake or something. 

Himchan went so still beside him Jongup was certain he'd stopped breathing. 

He hadn't imagined it. It hadn't been a mistake.

Jongup had missed the call. He'd been working on new choreography with Junhong, and when they took a break for food, he had a voicemail from an unfamiliar number. 

He hadn't given it a second thought, hadn't had any premonition of strangeness. His head was still on the main point of the choreo as he absently called to collect his message.

The voicemail was quiet, not-quite-silent, muffled sounds on the end. _Butt dial_ , Jongup figured, and had almost hung up when he heard the voice, distant, not talking into the phone but somewhere beyond: _"_ There _you are, Chan! What the hell are you do--"_

The message ended there.

Jongup had stared wide-eyed at his phone for a full minute before replaying the message. His hands were shaking. 

_There you are, Chan!_

_There you are_

_Chan_

He'd missed the call by less than fifteen minutes. 

He listened to the message again and again, trying to divine details from it that simply weren't there. He imagined he could hear Himchan breathing on the other end, but that was in his head. For weeks after, he wouldn't let his phone out of his sight, even to use the bathroom in the dorm. But there was never a second call. 

"Himchan?" he said now.

"What are you talking about." Himchan's voice was low. _Embarrassed_ , a little, like he knew Jongup knew he was bluffing and he couldn't be bothered to put on a good show. He didn't even wait for an answer. "How'd you even know it was me? I didn't say anything."

"Someo-- _Kyung_ \--said your name in the background." For now he was certain his was the voice he'd heard. He couldn't believe he hadn't figured it out earlier in the evening.

"Oh." Himchan's hands worked compulsively, fingers rubbing knuckles. If he'd been wearing his ring, he'd be twisting it now. "I'm sorry, Jongup-ah. That was kind of shitty of me."

Jongup hadn't been looking for another apology. He elbowed Himchan gently. "It's fine, just--why did you? After so long?"

The older man didn't look at him. "That was a...a really, really bad day. And I just wanted to hear your voice. I don't even know what I would've said if you'd picked up."

"What happened?" Jongup asked. He felt guilty that the other man only got the impersonal voicemail message. He'd never even changed it from the default robot voice. If it took Himchan over a year to need him that badly, it must have been one hell of a rotten day. He pressed his shoulder against Himchan's before he even realized what he was doing. When he did, he couldn't bring himself to move away. 

He wasn't sure Himchan even noticed. He was still staring at his hands. For a long moment, he didn't answer, then he seemed to rouse himself. He gave Jongup an apologetic smile. "I think that's a story for another night, if that's okay," he said. Dimly, Jongup could hear the rush of the oncoming train. 

"Sure," he said. "Yeah, no problem."

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

The train was nearly full, even so late, and Himchan glared at a couple of teenagers until they meekly gave up their seats so Jongup could sit. Himchan stood protectively over his outstretched leg, holding onto the safety bar above his head with one hand. Jongup was grateful it was too loud to talk. He kept his eyes on his knees rather than look up at the pale sliver of skin showing between Himchan's pants and his sweatshirt, right at eye level.

It was a thankfully short trip back to the dorm. Hardly anyone got off with Jongup and Himchan. They were silent as they took the escalator up, as they walked down the block. Jongup should have told Himchan he was fine from here, let the elder go back. He didn't. He wasn't ready for him to leave yet. 

He felt _close_. It was on the tip of his tongue, their way out of this mess, and Jongup felt certain if he could only stay quietly near Himchan a little longer, he'd figure out what he wanted; how to fix things. He'd been wrong about the distance thing. They'd had two years of distance and it hadn't helped; what good would a few more weeks or months do?

Too soon they were at the base of the ugly rectangle that was the dorm. 

"Well--" Himchan began.

"Do you want to come up?" Jongup interrupted recklessly. "For--we'll have tea or something." Fuck. Maybe he should have just stayed back at Yongguk's. He could no longer quite remember why it had seemed so vital that he leave. 

Himchan looked down at him, his eyes searching. "I don't think I should go inside," he said. "TS property and all."

Disappointment burned, but who could he blame but himself? "Right. Well. Thanks for dinner," Jongup said.

"Thanks for checking on me," Himchan said. "You should come out with me and Kyung tomorrow; I know you're going stir-crazy." His shoulders were high around his shoulders, tensed against the biting night air. Before he could stop himself, Jongup tucked his right crutch against his side and reached out to pull Himchan's hood up over his head.  

"It's cold, hyung," he said, tugging lightly on the drawstrings so the wind wouldn't just blow the hood straight off again. Himchan had gone very still again. Jongup took his time clumsily tying the strings in a bow single-handedly, and by the time he finished, Himchan was smiling. It was almost _his_ smile, the one reserved just for Jongup. His eyes were still a bit too careful, but it was close.

_They_ were close. Jongup had taken half a step forward so he could reach without upsetting his crutches. He lowered his hand reluctantly. Himchan's smile faded and his eyes were almost hungry on Jongup's face.

"Um. Call me tomorrow?" Jongup said. His voice sounded like he hadn't used it in a long time, scratchy and low. Himchan looked a little dazed. He nodded. Stepped back, then kind of _swayed_ on the spot as though he were about to step forward again. 

"Night, Jonguppie," he said. 

Jongup could feel his eyes on him until he got inside. He went straight to the freezer when he got into the dorm. He needed ice over his entire body. He burned.

*

**Then**

*****

**"** _There_ you are, Chan! What the hell are you doing?"

Himchan dropped the phone back into its cradle at the sound of Kyung's voice, so loud behind him. He tried to focus, tried to be grateful Jongup hadn't picked up. What could Himchan have possibly said?

He turned back to the other soldier. His face was still black with soot and he looked harried. His voice when he spoke was gentle, though.

"What are you doing out here, man? You should be in the infirmary." He touched Himchan's sleeve, dark and stiff with blood.

"It's not mine," Himchan said automatically. 

"I know. You still need to get checked out. Who the hell were you calling?"

"I--no one. I just needed--I wanted to--" Himchan had been in the infirmary with the others, pressed against the wall, trying to stay out of the way. The place had been overfilled with doctors, nurses, soldiers--it must have been noisy but Himchan's ears were still ringing. And suddenly he'd been sure that the only thing in the world that could stop the reverberating in his skull would be Jongup's voice. If he could just hear him say one fucking sentence, _any_ sentence...he'd be happy with a _fuck you_ if it came in Moon Jongup's voice today. 

Kyung's bulging eyes looked even crazier than usual, staring out of that ash-covered face. They softened now. He cast a quick look up and down the hall. For once it was empty, all activity on the base localized elsewhere. He took Himchan's arm and dragged him down onto the bench beside the phone.

"Okay listen, just sit for a minute, okay? I guess you're not about to bleed out on me or anything, so the infirmary can wait."

Himchan just nodded. His whole head felt like a bell that had been rung a bit too enthusiastically.

"Any word on--?" he began. Kyung shook his head.

"They're still in with him. I think it'll be awhile. But if you hadn't been there--"

"Don't." He couldn't bear it. There was no looking on the bright side today. 

"Okay, Channie. Okay." Kyung's voice was gentle. "Hey, know what helps? Just, like, count in your head."

"The fuck are you talking ab--"

"You're a little freaked, so--try counting. I dunno, it works for me. Like, count your breaths or whatever, I dunno, it's some fucking meditative shit but I swear to fuck it works. Count to ten twice, go on--" He prodded Himchan's knee. Himchan gave him a dubious look in return, but what the hell. He counted his breaths. It was something of a wonder to realize he _was_ still breathing. Crazy what the human body could keep doing in a crisis. 

Kyung was nodding encouragingly. Himchan counted to ten. The ringing in his ears was subsiding a bit. He gave Kyung a wondering look and the other man held out his hands.

"Works, right?"

"Fucking meditative shit," Himchan managed. His voice was hoarse--his throat felt raw from the smoke. He wondered if he could skip the infirmary and sneak a cup of honey tea out of the mess hall. 

"Fuck yeah." Kyung gave him a tired grin. He slapped Himchan's back lightly and pain shot through him, sharp and unexpected. He groaned and Kyung froze for only half a beat before leaning back to look. " _Shit_ , Ugly, why didn't you say--? That's it, fuck these fucking breathing exercises. Infirmary, now."

He dragged Himchan to his feet and down the hall. They passed a bank of windows as they went and Himchan stared out. It was mid-afternoon, but the sky was still dark with smoke.

 


	11. Chapter 11

The ring had slipped down to the bottom of the glitter box. Jongup had to dig to find it. It was annoying. It was annoying every time he unearthed it to take abroad, too, and yet he never left without it. He wondered if this sudden intense need for it was bleeding over from some alternate universe in which he hadn't hurt himself, a universe where he was in China with the others right now. 

He sat on his bedroom floor with the box in his lap, shedding its glitter all over his shorts, his hair dripping cold rivulets down his back. He'd stuck his head in a sink of icy water after leaving Himchan in the parking lot. He'd have preferred a cold shower, but showering was a pain in the ass with his leg, so he made do. The water had had the effect he was looking for anyway--at least, kind of. His thoughts were still a mess, but now they were a very _clear_ mess.

 He probably shouldn't have told Himchan to call him. It was too hard to be around him when he kept wanting things back the way they were before. How could he want that? He couldn't just _forget_ the past two years. So much had happened, wouldn't this just be moving backwards? Forgiving the unforgivable?

At the same time, he couldn't deny that just being around Himchan still made him happy. He liked the sound of his voice. He liked the way he could say something so perfectly random and uncalculated and hysterical that could crack Jongup up, and he liked how pleased and surprised he looked whenever he did. 

Even now, torn roughly in two, the person Jongup most wanted to ask for advice was Himchan himself. He'd always been so good at making him feel better. For someone who talked as much as he did, he had a decent track record for saying the right thing when it counted. 

Jongup imagined how the conversation would go: _Hey, Himchan, I'm thinking we should get back together but I'm fucking terrified that there's no way for us to have a future together and I don't think I can handle having my heart broken by you again. Any thoughts?_

The ring was a familiar weight in his hand. He made a fist around it and pressed it to his forehead. He was going to drive himself crazy if he didn't think about something else. Absently, he slid the ring onto his thumb and pulled his phone from his pocket. 

He meant to peruse SNS, the fastest way he knew to wipe his mind clear of any actual thought, but the stupid article about Himchan was still pulled up on his screen, and he found himself rereading before he could stop himself. 

It pissed him off all over again. He made himself slow down, to see what Himchan had said--there _were_ no all-out lies. But the power of suggestion was strong, and the article insinuated a huge load of bullshit. 

It wasn't fair. Even angry at Himchan (because he _was_ still angry, right? It may had slipped under a bunch of conflicting feelings, but surely it hadn't just disappeared), Jongup could see how hard he was trying. He was giving Jongup the space he'd promised. He was doing everything possible to help Hana and her new family. He'd accepted a job and was giving it his all when, by all accounts (ie, Junhong's) he seemed convinced he was going to fail. He was trying to move forward, and he was doing it alone, and it wasn't fair that some random reporter was trying to drag him down again just because he had a deadline to meet. 

Jongup read the article again, but by the end he wasn't really seeing it. An idea was forming. Maybe Himchan didn't have to do _everything_ alone.

He scrolled through his contacts, glad for once that he never got around to deleting anyone. He dialed, hoping the number hadn't changed. A few rings, a few rings more. He remembered for the first time how late it was, cursed himself and was about to hang up when a familiar voice said hello. He let out a breath. 

"Hi," he said. "This is Moon Jongup. Um. Sorry, I know it's late, but--can I ask for a favor?"

*

The coffee shop was too warm and half-full at midmorning. Himchan chose a table in the back with the view of the shop's rather eclectic mural--how had they decided on the panda theme? And why the random polar bear?--with his coffee and a muffin he could only pick at.

He hadn't slept, his brain choosing instead to turn the evening over and over again, always landing, of course, on Jongup. He thought back to Daehyun's words at the hospital weeks before: _The minute he thought you might be worried, he forgot all about being mad at you._ The same went for Jongup being worried about _him_ , apparently, for he'd been so...so _Jongup_ , the entire night. Good humored and caring and perfect and--

Himchan broke off this train of thought along with the top of his muffin, which had done nothing to deserve such rough treatment. The blueberry interior seemed to look up at him with reproach. 

This hope scared him, but he couldn't seem to squelch it. Jongup had come to _him_. Maybe there really was a chance they could be friends again. The idea of having the dancer in his life again--in any capacity--was enough to make him almost dizzy with happiness. 

Plus, Jongup had met Kyung. 

That first moment had been terrifying, standing between the two of them. Himchan didn't know who to _be_ \--the version of himself Kyung had gotten to know over the past two years bore little resemblance to the Himchan Jongup had learned inside out so long ago. He wasn't sure which one he was now. Both were real, both were _him_. He'd become such a fractured thing. 

But then they were talking, and Jongup was Jongup and Kyung was Kyung and it was somehow Okay.  

A coffee cup crashed onto the table next to Himchan's almost-empty mug. He jumped.

"Are you gonna eat that?" Kyung said, sliding into the seat across from him.  

"Apparently not," Himchan said, sliding his plate to his friend and giving the coffee a questioning look. "And I already have one."

"Seems like a two-cup kinda day," Kyung said. "You're looking all kinds of wrecked over here. Just what the hell did you two get up to after I left last night?"

It took Himchan's brain a beat to catch up. "Nothing, just--what?" He stared at the other man, who was dumping an obscene number of sugar packets into his own mug. Kyung grunted. 

"I feel like a dumbass," he said. "I fucking _saw_ the way you looked at Moon when he was dancing. I had it fucking figured out, but then you only ever talked about Bang, and he was the one who wrote to you, so I thought it had to be _him_ instead." He took a sip of his coffee and looked around the shop contentedly, oblivious to the way his words had made Himchan's palms break out in a cold sweat. "I like this place. Cool mural. I never would have thought to put pandas in top hats."

Himchan ignored this. "What do you mean, _you thought it had to be Bang_ ," he said. There was an acrid taste in the back of his throat. Kyung put his cup down and gave a dismissive shrug. 

"You know you basically reeked of heartbreak, Chan. That fucking ring of yours...I just thought the big lost love had to be the guy sending you postcards all the time," he said. 

Himchan was still trying to process this. "Who ever said anything about a big lost love?" he said. Kyung rolled his eyes. 

"No one had to," he said. "I _know_ you, remember? Are you gonna look me in the eye and lie to me now?" He crossed his arms and waited. Himchan opened his mouth, then closed it again. Looked at Kyung for signs of disgust and found none. 

"No," he said. "I'm not gonna lie to you. You're right." His friend raised both fists in triumph. "Oh, don't gloat," Himchan sighed. Kyung obeyed, but a grin tugged at his lips. "So, what happens now?"

"Now you fucking tell me everything. I can't believe you kept it a secret this whole time."

Himchan leaned back in his seat, downed the dregs of his first, now-tepid cup of coffee and pulled the fresh one closer. "Yeah, well. I have trust issues."

"Okay, _that_ much I already knew."

He told him all of it. He didn't spare himself, didn't pull any punches at the end as he confessed his lie. Kyung listened in silence, drinking his coffee and picking the blueberries out of his muffin. By the time Himchan finished, he felt like he'd aged a decade, but also like he'd finally put something down he'd been carrying for a long time. 

"Jesus," Kyung commented after a pause. "That's--Jesus. This explains kind of a lot. So now are you two--I dunno. What are you?"

"We're nothing," Himchan said automatically.

"Ha! That was _not_ nothing. You're using that word wrong. I fucking saw you guys last night. Does the saying _longing stares_ mean anything to you?"

" _Longing stares_ is not a _saying_. You're using that word wrong."

"Fuck off. If he's so pissed at you, why'd he hang out with you all night?"

"Well. He can't walk that well, so he couldn't leave so easily."

"Managed his crutches okay, far as I could see." 

Himchan frowned and pulled his plate back to himself, searching the rubble for something edible. Told the hope in his head to _shut up, shut up, shut up._

Kyung looked thoughtful. "He's coming out with us later, yeah?" he said. "If you ask _me_ , you two oughta bury the hatchet. I can mediate!"

Himchan shuddered at the thought. "I didn't ask you," he reminded him. "And you owe me breakfast."

*

Himchan didn't call until evening. Jongup kept himself busy coordinating, talking to the others on their group chat, going through possible scenarios. He barely noticed the hours ticking by.

Barely. 

When the phone finally rang, he waited a cool three seconds before answering. 

"We found a beer garden Kyung's all excited to check out," Himchan said. "You up for it?"

Jongup didn't even pretend to have to think about it.

The garden sat between two tall buildings and behind a high wooden fence. The sounds of the city faded as Jongup stepped through the doorway, so that all he could hear was the hiss, crackle and spit of the twin bonfires set up in the middle of the space, and the music playing over the speakers above the bar. 

The area had been strung with little white lights that looked like they were floating. Even when he craned his neck, Jongup couldn't see the wires connecting them in the canopy. They hung in the trees bordering the far end of the garden, where heavy wooden benches had been lined with pillows. Space heaters glowed from the ground around the edges where the warmth from the fires wouldn't reach. 

"Well, isn't this fucking adorable," Kyung said. "Here, there's room over here, you can stretch your leg out--" He motioned to one of the corner alcoves with an empty bench and table. They started for it, then he halted Himchan. "We'll stake a claim, go get us some drinks," he said. Himchan gave him a warning look and glanced at Jongup, who just shrugged. He wasn't sure he was entirely comfortable with Kyung--he was friendly enough but had a way of staring that was unsettling--but then, he wasn't entirely comfortable with Himchan, either. Too much temptation.

Because he _was_ tempted, and there seemed no point in denying it to himself anymore. He'd been tempted to wear his ring to the bar, and left it at home with regret. He was tempted to run his hands through Himchan's hair. He was tempted to walk--well, clomp, stupid crutches--just a little too close to him, to press against him when they sat, to stare, to not look away when Himchan caught him. The thought gave him a thrill even as it filled him with nerves. 

Kyung was easier.

Jongup followed him to the alcove while Himchan went to the bar. The bench was wide and it was easy enough to arrange the pillows so he was reasonably comfortable. Kyung sat across the table. 

"Better than being stuck inside, right?" he said. Jongup nodded. It was cold, but it felt nice to be somewhere _new_.

"So!" Kyung rubbed his hands together and peered behind him at the bar. Himchan had joined the rather lengthy queue. It seemed there was only one bartender working, and he was scrambling. Kyung turned back to Jongup. "Channie finally filled me in on your whole history this morning."

He said it so matter-of-factly that it took Jongup a beat to react. 

"He--oh."

"Right, so, real quick, why don't you tell me your intentions," Kyung continued. Jongup blinked. 

"My _intentions_?" he repeated, trying to smile. Kyung didn't smile back, so Jongup put his own away and let his irritation show. "Why do you think you get to ask me that? You don't even know me."

"You're right. I don't know you," Kyung agreed. He aimed a thumb over his shoulder at Himchan. "I know _him._ I saw what he went through after your split, okay? I didn't know the deal at the time, but he looked ready to commit harikari every fucking day. He was miserable, and it took a long time for that to go away. Now you're here and he's telling me _nothing's going on, we're just friends_ \--" He dropped into his mimicry of Himchan's voice and Jongup winced. It was just a bit too spot-on. "And I just--" He pulled out The Stare and Jongup made himself meet it. "If you're only here because you're bored or something? Back off. I don't care how pissed you are, you can't do that to him."

Jongup wanted to be angry. Part of him was, a little, but mostly because it felt uncomfortable to be so _seen_ by a stranger. Kyung wasn't telling him anything he hadn't been telling himself already. 

"I wouldn't," he said finally. "Do that to him. I don't--" His voice was hoarse, he had to stop and clear his throat. Kyung was watching him solemnly but there was no malice to his expression. "I don't know exactly what we are either. It's a lot more complicated than you think." He paused. "He really told you everything?" He found this hard to imagine. After it had gone so badly telling his mother, Jongup hadn't thought Himchan would ever tell anyone else unless he was backed into a corner. Kyung might be blunt, but Jongup was positive Himchan wasn't the least bit intimidated by him. 

"Complete with a detailed telling of his own fuck-ups," Kyung said wryly. "What a dummy he can be." He said this with clear affection. "I guess he's always been the guy who runs straight into the fire without thinking."

It was an odd comment, but Himchan returned with drinks before Jongup could ask just what the hell _that_ was supposed to mean. 

"Everyone comfortable?" he asked, eyes lingering on Jongup's leg. 

"Over the damn moon," Kyung said promptly, accepting his drink. "Cheers."

Himchan took the seat beside him, across from Jongup. He'd reverted to careful form, not getting too close to the dancer, nor letting his face betray his feelings. 

"I meant to ask, how's it going with Kyungeun and the asshole?" he asked his friend. Kyung snorted into his beer. 

"I don't know how she stands him," he muttered. "He's so full of shit."

"I'm surprised you didn't put up more of a fight about her coming to see him."

"Oh, there was fighting. Lots of fighting. I mean, who abandons their kids like that, you know? And then just turns up, years later, like they have any fucking right--" Kyung broke off and drank aggressively. Himchan just watched, unperturbed by this sign of temper. 

"He didn't want to see you, too?" he asked quietly. Kyung gave half a shrug. 

"Nah, he did, but. I just can't, you know? Kyungeun's better than me like that. Plus he wasn't as _actively_ an asshole by the time she came around, so she's actually got some nice memories of the guy. I figure, what the hell. He doesn't deserve her forgiveness, but she deserves to have her dad in her life if that's what she wants. I'd be a dick to stand in the way of that."

Jongup gave a slight start at his words. Kyung looked at him for a beat. 

"Far be it for you to be a dick," Himchan snorted. The tension of the moment broke and Kyung grinned, shoved at Himchan's shoulder. 

"Fuck off."

*

The drinks were good. Kyung seemed to know a lot about beer and bought the next round, talking up each variety, their hops and whatever the hell other beer stuff he knew until Himchan kicked him off the bench with both feet. Jongup had a good time. 

Except he couldn't shut off his brain, which kept running Kyung's words on a loop. _He doesn't deserve forgiveness_...There was something to that, wasn't there? Maybe you didn't always forgive people because they deserved it. Maybe that was just the price you paid to keep them in your life. Sometimes the price was too high, like for Kyung and his dad. But Jongup looked at Himchan, felt the old familiar warmth in his chest and thought, sometimes the price was a fucking _steal_. 

Also distracting him were a series of texts he received--good news. Things had moved faster than he'd expected. He typed out covert responses while Himchan was distracted by Kyung--or so he thought. He looked up to find his eyes on him. The older man looked away quickly.

They wound up back at Yongguk's apartment. Jongup almost demurred, almost went back to the dorm for another night of stewing, but he felt too restless to retreat. He felt _ready_. 

For Kyung's part, he seemed satisfied having voiced his defense of Himchan, and was acting perfectly friendly towards Jongup. The three men had just settled themselves on the couches with a bottle of soju and cluster of glasses when the buzzer sounded. Himchan rose to answer a bit tentatively. 

"Yes?"

" _Himchan, it's me_." His shoulders relaxed as he buzzed Mina inside. 

"Who's this, then?" Kyung asked keenly. Himchan gave him a severe look. 

"One of my oldest friends," he said sternly. "Oh, and my ex," he added as an afterthought. Kyung's eyebrows jumped and he looked at Jongup as if to gauge his response. Jongup just sipped his soju, though his heartbeat was speeding up. It was time to see if his gamble had paid off.

Himchan opened the door to admit Mina a moment later and she spilled in, talking before she even had her coat off.

"Sorry to just show up like this, but I was in the neighborhood--" She caught sight of Jongup and Kyung. "Oh," she said. "Hello--hi, Jongup--"

"Hi." He twisted around as best he could in his seat. Mina's eyes kept flickering between him and Himchan, even as Himchan was introducing her to Kyung. 

"Do you want a drink?" he offered. 

"I can't stay long."

"Okay. Do you want a drink anyway?"

She rolled her eyes, then shrugged. "Sure." 

Himchan disappeared briefly into the kitchen and returned with a glass. "So what's up?" he asked carefully. Jongup could see his nerves in the slightly jerky way he moved.

"It's about the article," Mina said without preamble. 

"Yeah, I figured." Himchan took up his drink again and waited. Mina glanced at Jongup and smiled slightly.

"Lee Hyejin published an op ed in response to it," she said. Himchan tensed again at the reporter's name, and Jongup had to fight to urge to snarl, even knowing what he did. Kyung looked like he was trying to remember something on the tip of his tongue. Jongup wondered if Himchan had named Hyejin when he told his friend that part of the story. 

"Great," Himchan said tightly. Mina smiled.

"Actually, it kind of is," she said. "She calls out the reporter for--well, for being horrible, basically, for insinuating things about you without a scrap of evidence to back them up. She got quotes from a few orchestra parents and your employer, saying you're doing a great job. She makes that other reporter look like a fool and an asshole. Rightly so."

Himchan's jaw clenched. "Mina," he said. "Aren't _you_ my employer?"

"Well." Mina brushed her hair off her shoulders and sat up a bit straighter. "I mean _technically,_ but you don't have to start bowing to me or anything. Unless you want t--"

"You gave _Lee Hyejin_ a quote?" Himchan said. 

"A statement of support," she corrected. "I didn't even have to exaggerate." 

Himchan held out his hand. "Let me see." Mina pulled out her phone, fiddled with it, then passed it to him. They sat in silence while he read. 

"This is--" he said finally. "Mina, this is--" He stopped and pursed his lips. 

"I meant it," she said gently. 

"She didn't call you for a quote," Himchan said, looking up at her. "Did she. You called _her_."

"I figured she owed you one. _Several_ ones, actually," Mina said. "Plus you know how she was always going on about journalistic ethics while she was fucking you over, so--yeah, I called her. But I can't take credit for the idea." She looked pointedly at Jongup. Himchan followed her gaze and his mouth dropped open slightly. Jongup didn't look away. 

Mina kept talking. "And then Jongup and Yongguk and the other members tweeted her article with their _own_ statements of support, and look, the comments are going _nuts_ , there were already like 15,000 last I checked, almost all in support of you. Looks like a lot of your old fans came out in force."

Himchan's brow furrowed and he looked at the phone again, scrolling down. His eyes went bright as he read and Jongup felt a sharp burst of pride and gratitude in Babyz. 

Abruptly, Himchan put the phone down. "Excuse me," he murmured, and went to the kitchen. Mina watched him go, her expression fading into worry. Kyung tugged the phone over to himself and began to read, his expression serious. Jongup got his crutches under him and rose, giving Mina what he hoped was a reassuring smile as he made his way to the kitchen.

There was no way to sneak in, his crutches thumping against the tile. Himchan stood at the sink with his back to the door, head bowed. Jongup hesitated in the doorway before going in, making his cautious way until he stood just behind the other man. He paused, checking himself for traces of anger or hesitation. But he felt poised on the edge of something clear and good. Leaving his crutch propped under his arm, he put a light hand on Himchan's side. 

The older man jerked very slightly, then turned around to face him. Jongup didn't lower his hand, letting it slide across Himchan's back as he turned, letting it come to rest on his opposite hip. 

"You know the fans really miss you," Jongup told him. "They ask about you all the time. We knew they'd want to support you."

Himchan nodded and swiped a hand under his eyes almost before Jongup saw the tear fall. "I didn't think they'd still--" he said, his voice thick. He had to stop and swallow hard. "And I didn't think the others even saw that first stupid article."

"I called Yongguk hyung," Jongup said. He was almost glad he hadn't been with the rapper to see his fury; it had laced his every word clearly enough. "Then it was Junhongie's idea for us to tweet the new article once it was up. Lee writes fast." 

He'd been a little worried they might do more harm than good, encouraging more people to read the original awful article as well as the second, turning it into a bigger story than it would have been otherwise. But in the end, they all agreed that exposing terrible reporting (terrible human-ing, really), and showing their support for Himchan would be for the best.

"You didn't have to do that," Himchan said. "What if it causes trouble for you guys with TS?"

This, too, they'd considered. There was only one response they could give.

"Fuck them," Jongup said clearly. Himchan gave a startled, watery laugh and Jongup grinned. "You know we've all still got your back, right?" he added quietly. Himchan's eyes filled again and he looked down. 

"After everything, I don't know why," he muttered. Jongup released his hip, reached up and flicked him on the forehead.

"Pabo hyung," he said, and kissed him. 

Himchan made a small noise of surprise. Jongup had to rise slightly on tip-toe to reach, and his crutch clattered against the counter, but then Himchan's arm was there, looping around his waist, securing him tightly against him. The moment his lips moved tentatively against Jongup's, the huge crashing ocean of _want_ inside the dancer went still. There was only Himchan. His lower lip was slightly chapped. He tasted of soju and of himself, that undefinable taste that Jongup remembered so well. Himchan's grip tightened around him and a few fingers slipped under the dancer's shirt. At the first touch of thumb to flesh, Jongup shuddered, and a whole new sea of want began to roll in. 

Himchan broke off the kiss and pressed his forehead against his. 

"Are you all right?" His voice was shaking as badly as Jongup's good leg. 

"Kiss me again and I will be," he said. Himchan did, and Jongup could feel him smiling against his lips. He was smiling himself. He held Himchan's jaw, thumb feeling the hint of new stubble, forefinger running along the familiar ridge of his cheekbone. He wanted to touch every square inch of him, to learn him all over again. 

He _would_ learn him all over again. This certainty, that he could let himself have this, that it was what Himchan wanted too, made him gasp. Himchan took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, and Jongup's hand went to the back of his neck, holding him in place. He considered just dropping his second crutch. Himchan wouldn't let him fall.

Before he could, though, there came a shout from the front room.

"Oh my word, look at the time!" Kyung's voice was theatrically loud. Himchan and Jongup broke apart. The sight of Himchan's kiss-swollen lips almost made Jongup dive right back in, the hell with the apartment's two other forgotten occupants. "I'd better get my ass home before I turn back into a pumpkin!"

"Oh, God," Himchan muttered, and Jongup had to muffle a bout of hysterical giggles in his shoulder. He expected Himchan to move, to go to the front room, but he stayed put, never taking his eyes off Jongup, and merely shouted, "Call me later, then!"

"Aye aye, Sarge! Don't worry, I'm taking the lovely Mina with me!" 

Jongup took half a step back reluctantly. He felt like he owed Mina a thank you or a real goodbye or _something_. They hadn't spoken in years, he'd called her inexcusably late at night and asked for a favor, and she hadn't hesitated to help. Himchan was studying him and seemed to read this in his face. 

"Mina?" he called, stepping carefully around Jongup, retrieving his second crutch for him so he wouldn't be off-balance. He turned and saw Mina appear in the doorway. She was unsuccessfully suppressing a smile. Her eyes met Jongup's for a beat and she nodded, then looked at Himchan.

"I'll see you at work tomorrow," she said firmly. "Don't be late."

"Yes, ma'am."

Kyung appeared behind her. He'd put his jacket back on, along with a seriously indecent smirk. He tugged Mina's sleeve lightly. 

"You two have a nice night, now," he said. "Don't stay up too late."

"Get out," Himchan said, and the other man grinned devilishly. "Wait, aren't you going back to Busan in the morning?" Kyung's smile faded and he gave his patented half shrug. "Were you even gonna say goodbye?"

"Nah, ugly," Kyung said lightly. "I'll be talking to you soon." His eyes drifted over to Jongup. "Good luck with the leg and stuff," he said. 

They were left alone. Jongup's heart felt like it was hovering somewhere above his body. Himchan turned from the door to look at him. Jongup knew that look. 

"I'm not gonna disappear," he said. Himchan smiled faintly. Jongup wanted to go to him, but now that their moment had been broken, he felt shy and unsure again. 

"Want to get some air?" Himchan offered.

They went onto the porch and Jongup sat on top of the picnic table. Himchan leaned against the railing, facing him. He dug in his pockets and pulled out a small rectangle. 

"I started smoking again," he told Jongup, frowning down at the pack. Jongup made a face before he could stop himself. Himchan smiled. "Yeah," he agreed. He put the pack away and put his hands in his pockets. Jongup could only just make out his features in the dark. It was almost a relief; looking at Himchan felt a bit like staring directly into a bright light.

At the same time, though, he didn't like him being so far away. 

He held out his hand and Himchan took it, coming to kneel on the picnic bench between his knees. It was both easier and harder to breathe with him so close. Jongup traced the lines of his face with his fingertips. Himchan just watched him, one hand resting on his good knee, the other on his hip. 

"What happened in the kitchen doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to," he said softly. Jongup's hands stilled. 

"You think that didn't mean anything to me?"

His eyes followed the bob of the other man's Adam's apple as he swallowed hard. "I think--you were maybe feeling a little sorry for me," he said carefully. Jongup wished for one of those toy hammers they were given all the time in interviews. Himchan could benefit from a light _bop_ to the head. 

"I don't feel sorry for you," he said, pinching the other man's ear. "That's not why I kissed you."

"No?" Jongup shook his head. "Good." Himchan's grip on his knee tightened. Jongup's eyes kept drifting down to his mouth. It was so fucking _pretty_ he could hardly stand it. He leaned toward him without even meaning to. Himchan leaned in too, and for a minute their lips brushed again, so softly it was more whisper than kiss. Himchan pulled back first, slumping to rest his forehead against Jongup's chest. 

"We should probably talk first," he said reluctantly, words muffled in his shirt. "Otherwise..."

_Otherwise we'll never be able to stop_ , Jongup's mind supplied. He nodded with matching reluctance as Himchan drew back. 

"I just--what does this mean? Not that it _has_ to mean anything," he added hastily. 

"Stop saying that," Jongup said. "Of course it means something. You know I love you." It felt very good to say it. Himchan looked down quickly, but not before Jongup saw the way his forehead creased.

"I love you too," Himchan said. "But--you're mad at me. Or you _were_ mad, and--and that's fine, I mean of course you're mad, I just--I don't understand what changed between a few days ago and now?"

Jongup sighed. He took Himchan's face between his hands. 

"I think--I'll never be okay with what you did," he said slowly, choosing his words with care. He felt Himchan tense under him. He didn't let go. "But I miss you. _All the time_ , I miss you, and I love you, and I just--" He tried to find the words to express how exhausting he found his own anger. It was too heavy to carry forever, and he didn't want to try. 

Himchan waited, but when Jongup's words stuck in his throat, he said hesitantly, "I don't want you to think you can't trust me. I know I lied, and it was stupid, but I wouldn't--I _won't_ \--do that again, I swear--"

Jongup nodded quickly because he could hear tears in Himchan's voice again. It wasn't even true that he didn't trust him--exactly. He trusted that he loved him. It was kind of insane that he could take this for granted, Himchan being older and probably the most beautiful man on the planet and all, but he did. Himchan loving him was a fact he felt straight through his skin. 

But. 

He thought of Kyung's words: _He's always been the guy who runs straight into the fire without thinking._ Jongup didn't know precisely what the soldier had meant, and yet he also knew exactly. That unthinking, stupidly self-sacrificing side of Himchan scared him _._

"So we make a deal," he said. "We have to talk about stuff. No more--disappearing when you're upset, even if you're upset with _me_. We can take a time out if one of us needs to--be alone, or whatever--but we have to tell each other where we're going, and then we have to come back."

His own words gave him a sudden flashback to thanking Himchan for not leaving the group in the beginning when he'd almost bailed. Himchan had sworn he'd always return. He wasn't so bad at keeping promises, really.

Himchan was nodding.

"I can do that," he said. "Can I--ask for something?" He said this so hesitantly that Jongup winced. 

"Obviously," he said, nudging the other man's nose with his own and smiling. 

"If--we're really doing this," Himchan said haltingly. Jongup's hands had drifted down to his neck, and he could feel the muscles jumping under the skin. "Can we take things slow? A lot has changed, _we've_ both changed, plus we need to figure out how this will even work--"

"Okay," Jongup agreed. Himchan blinked. 

"Okay?"

"Yeah. That makes sense." And it did. There were certain things Jongup thought would be harder to take slow than others (pun very much intended; two years was a long time), but Jongup knew they had to consider exactly how they would be together when they didn't live or work together now. They'd grown so accustomed to grabbing snippets of time wherever they could before, but those moments would be drastically decreased now that Jongup could no longer count on running into Himchan in the studio or even sharing a bed with him in the dorm. Fuck, how the hell _were_ they going to do this once his leg was healed and he was back to schedules? They would have to be satisfied seeing each other every couple of _weeks_ , maybe--the thought made Jongup sick, as though they hadn't already survived much worse.

"Jongup." Himchan's voice pulled him out of his swiftly spiraling panic. He was watching him in a very knowing way. He'd always been the first to spot one of Jongup's mental digressions. "We'll figure it out. We're highly motivated." 

This was true. Jongup let himself relax. Himchan's index finger was playing under the hem of his shirt again and it felt very, very good. 

"I still have weeks left before I start schedules again," he said, smiling. Somehow, the time that had seemed so endless and miserable, now stretched before him too short, yet rife with possibility. Himchan's smile widened. 

"This is true," he said. "I might be forced to keep you company."

"You might." Jongup couldn't stop smiling. Neither could Himchan, who looked like he couldn't believe his luck. The desire to kiss him breathless warred with Jongup's desire to just _look_ at him. He felt like he had some internal reservoir that had been desert-dry for two years and was finally filling up again the more he looked at Himchan, the more he noticed things he had forgotten. He'd somehow forgotten the tiny moles dotting his face. He'd forgotten how soft his skin was. He'd forgotten how his kisses were like oxygen. 

Himchan leaned in again and Jongup breathed deep.


	12. Chapter 12

_Are you a drug addict, Seonsaengnim?_

Himchan kept waiting for the question, but it never came, though his students must have read all about his sordid past by now. He had expected Seulki to bring up the articles in her usual blunt way, but maybe he'd underestimated the power he had as her teacher. He'd never have dreamed of asking one about their personal life when _he_ was a student.

He passed out sheet music to the two drummers and they looked it over, their brows furrowing. 

"What's this?"

"Something new," he said. "The Ryu seemed a little too easy."

They scanned the pages. 

"Seonsaengnim...this progression..." Hyunjoo said slowly. "There's no _way_. It's too fast."

"You think?" Himchan smiled at the boy and pulled his janggu closer. His students sat up a bit straighter, excited now.

Himchan had been practicing the piece all week. The progression _was_ absurdly fast, and to perform it with precision was no mean feat. In truth, he hadn't managed to do it successfully himself until that very morning. 

He'd practiced in the patch of sunlight falling across Yongguk's floor, still in his pajamas, Jongup watching from the couch. 

Jongup. He stayed the night at Himchan's request, though he hadn't needed much--well, any--coaxing. They'd moved inside when the cold got to be too much, and sat facing each other on the couch, Jongup's bad leg outstretched, his foot in Himchan's lap. 

They talked for hours, catching each other up on the past two years--Jongup's unhappy attempts at dating, Himchan's furloughs in Busan with Kyung, Jongup's inability to write any good songs (his opinion, Himchan had his doubts), Himchan's lack of contact with his parents. It wasn't a _fun_ conversation, exactly, but each revelation felt to Himchan like they were drawing some of the poison from the wound, leaving something clean and healthy in its place. 

They didn't cover everything; there were a few stories Himchan still couldn't find the words for, and he guessed Jongup had some of those as well. But that was all right. They had _time_. When the talking was too much, the stories too painful, they stretched out along the couch together, Jongup at Himchan's back, arms round his chest, and just breathed. 

"You know what this reminds me of?" Jongup asked after a few minutes. Himchan did.

"Ribbit," he said. The dancer bit his shoulder lightly. 

They were shy changing into pajamas, keeping their eyes averted from things they still remembered very well. Jongup in a pair of Yongguk's too-long sweat pants made Himchan laugh, even as he felt like crying with relief. They lay on top of Yongguk's covers, and then somehow they were kissing. The feel of Jongup's lips on his and his muscled back under Himchan's hands was  _everything_. If it weren't for his knee and how afraid Himchan was of accidentally hurting him, he wasn't sure they'd have managed to stick to their promise to take things slow. 

Himchan hadn't wanted to sleep, afraid that he'd wake up and Jongup would be gone, the whole night nothing but a cruel dream. But exhaustion won out, and he fell asleep with the rhythm of Jongup's heartbeat against his chest.

When he woke, the dancer was still there, hair mussed and lips slightly parted in sleep. Himchan couldn't look away, awed that they were actually here together, until Jongup's lips quirked slightly and he said without opening his eyes, "Bet you wish you had some mouthwash handy right now."

Himchan laughed into his shoulder and somehow they'd made do.

Thinking about it now made him need to bite back a face-splitting grin. Himchan had half-wished he didn't have a job to get to; how nice would it have been to spend the whole day together? The others would be returning that afternoon, and alone time would be hard to come by. But at the same time, he badly wanted to be as _worthy_ of Jongup as he could be. Worthy meant doing something good, standing on his own. Worthy meant work.

Under the watchful eyes of his students, he began to play, quickly losing himself in the challenging piece. He almost laughed as he navigated the fastest bit successfully. Fuck, this felt good.

By the time he finished, he was sweating a bit, and he couldn't help but grin as Seulki and Hyunjoo burst into applause. 

"Seonsaeng _nim_ ," Seulki said. She somehow managed to make it sound like a curse, but her tone was impressed, so Himchan let it go. 

"Not impossible," he told Hyunjoo. "You two feel up to a challenge?"

"Fuck yeah!" the boy burst out. Seulki's eyes went wide and she grinned at Himchan expectantly. "Oh, sorry," Hyunjoo muttered quickly, his cheeks going crimson. Himchan shook his head and tried not to laugh.

"It's always the quiet ones."

*

Jongup wanted to _dance_. He craved movement the way other people craved sleep, or sex.

Though, come to think of it, he was craving that, too.

Still, his happiness felt as heady as cologne and just as obvious to everyone he passed on the street. Himchan had dropped him off at the dorm on his way to work, but Jongup hadn't been able to go inside. The sun was out and he'd spent the night in Himchan's arms and if it weren't for his stupid knee, everything would be perfect. 

He wandered, smiling like a fool behind his mask, until he found a playground. The day was clear but cold, and the equipment was clear of kids. Jongup crutched his way over to the swings and sat, pushing himself off with his good leg, getting some momentum, getting some height. He probably looked silly, kicking with one leg, the other stiff and outstretched in its brace, but he didn't care. He swung until his movements matched the swoopy feeling in his stomach.

He'd barely slept, lying awake for hours after Himchan's breaths grew steady and slow behind him. He wasn't used to sleeping with someone else anymore. Himchan's arm was heavy over him. 

He liked it. 

It had felt so good just to _talk_. There were no more recriminations, no blame to be portioned out. There were just the realities of their time apart, shared and then set aside to rest. Himchan still _got_ him, even when his words came out clumsy and stupid-sounding to his own ears. He was still fluent in Jongup the way few people were, not even the other members. It really was something to be truly known and wholly seen again after so long.

And so Jongup had lain there, happy to be awake with his back against Himchan's chest, certain that the other man's embrace was the only thing keeping him from lifting off to float somewhere above the bed.

Now he hung onto the swing chains tightly, just in case. He didn't come back down to earth for a long time.

*

He was nearly tackled the second he stepped into the dorm. 

" _Jongup-ah!"_

"Ahh," he replied, a flat scream-slash-greeting, rearing back. Daehyun stopped just short of actually jumping on him. 

"Where've you been? What have you been doing? We thought you'd be here when we got back," he pouted, twisting his hands, clearly not knowing what to do with himself since Jongup's crutches were preventing his preferred methods of smothering the dancer. 

"I went for a walk," Jongup said, edging around his friend and the inevitable cluster of luggage that had been abandoned just inside the door. Youngjae appeared in the bathroom doorway.

"Let him _in_ , pabo," he said. "Jonguppie, you miss us?"

"So much," Jongup said.

"We missed _you_ ," Junhong said, appearing suddenly. Somehow, with his superior height, he managed to give Jongup a careful, one-armed hug. The dancer could see Daehyun trying to work out the logistics of this maneuver, and he was relieved when Yongguk joined them and distracted the vocalist before he could try it. 

"How are you?" he asked, looking Jongup over. He almost glanced down at himself, sure that the night before must be written all over his clothes. 

"Fine. Good," he said. The understatement was ridiculous. He and Himchan weren't planning to keep their _them_ ness from their friends--they'd agreed, no more secrets, no more lies. But they also wanted to tell them together, to present a united front. Jongup thought Daehyun in particular might worry, and he knew if his hyung could just see the two of them together, he'd understand. 

"How's Himchan?" Junhong asked. Jongup jumped guiltily and his friend gave him an odd look. "Did he see the op-ed?" he pressed. 

Right. The articles. Jongup had nearly forgotten. 

"Oh--yeah," he said. "Mina told him about it. He almost cried. He wanted to call you guys, but he figured you'd be busy."

"But he's okay? You saw him?" Yongguk said. Jongup nodded and his hyung looked relieved. "Listen, I--he still has his stuff at my place, probably. I was gonna have dinner with him. Would you come? All of you?" Yongguk's eyes stayed on Jongup even as he included the others. It was tempting to laugh; the rapper was trying so hard to be thoughtful of his feelings, not realizing how much had changed in the past week. 

Jongup could have told him, assuaged his fears. But this seemed like a harmless little bit of payback for the last few years. 

He bit his lip, twisted his face into an expression of reluctance, and said, "Yeah, hyung, okay." Yongguk gave his shoulder a squeeze. 

"You sure you're all right? You managed okay this week?"

Jongup motioned down to himself. "Still in one piece."

"Just _try_ to stop him worrying," Daehyun scoffed affectionately, as if he had any room to talk. Yongguk stuck his tongue out. Junhong hoisted his suitcase over one shoulder--they all ducked--and touched Jongup's elbow. 

"C'mon, hang out while I unpack," he said. They all dispersed, Jongup following him down the hallway. He settled on the end of the bed. To his surprise, Junhong closed the door and advanced on him, a solemn look on his face. 

"What are you doing?" Jongup said. The taller boy hunched so they were on eye level.

"Be quiet a sec," he muttered, his eyes searching Jongup's face. Jongup arched an eyebrow a few times, nonplussed. After a beat, a smile spread across his friend's face.

" _Really_?" he said softly. 

"Really what?"

"You and Himchannie hyung. Right?"

Jongup blinked. The maknae was always fairly perceptive, but this was the first time he'd displayed actual mind-reading capabilities. 

"What? No. What?" he protested lamely. Junhong arched his eyebrow right back at him, his smile only widening. Jongup slumped, let his own smile peek through. "How'd you know?"

"You look _happy_ ," Junhong said. "The way you used to. Jonguppie, really? Really really? You two are--?"

"Keep your voice down," Jongup said, but he couldn't help laughing. "And...yeah, really." 

Junhong did a silent spastic dance of glee. "Wait, is it a secret?" he asked, stopping short. 

"Just until tonight, we wanted to tell you guys together," Jongup assured him. 

"Sorry." Junhong didn't look sorry. He looked as delighted as Jongup felt and they grinned at each other. 

Daehyun burst into the room with an armful of clothes. 

"Junhong-ah, what have I told you about putting your dirty clothes in my suitca--what's up with you two?" He stared between them. 

"Nothing, hyung," Junhong said innocently, batting his eyelashes at the elder. "Sorry, I thought I put that in my suitcase." He took the clothes from Daehyun, who continued to glare at them suspiciously. 

"We weren't even _rooming_ together," he said. Jongup turned his laugh into a very convincing cough and the singer turned on him. "What are you two doing in here with the door closed? Keeping secrets?" he complained. 

"Junhongie was just starting to tell me about China," Jongup said, reaching for Daehyun. The elder came willingly and let Jongup weave their arms together. Daehyun was always easy to mollify with touch. 

"It was terrible," he said promptly. "We're not right without you."

"Glad to hear it," Jongup murmured. It was strange to think of a four-man B.A.P. onstage. But then, it had been impossible to imagine them as just five, too. The thought still gave him a pang, but it didn't hurt as much as usual. What happened onstage didn't matter nearly as much as what happened off it, and Jongup knew they'd always be six where it mattered most. He elbowed Daehyun. "Tell me all the worst bits."

*

Seulki and Hyunjoo just managed to make progress with the song at one-quarter tempo. It was still a challenge, and Himchan could see they were both going to go home and drive their parents crazy practicing. They were good kids, really.

He was packing up his materials when he heard a knock at the door behind him. Mina, checking up on him for the third time, surely. He shook his head, smiling a little. 

"It went fine, Mina, I told you it would."

"Ah, and who's this Mina when she's at home?"

Himchan jerked around at the sound of the familiar voice he'd not heard in so long. Sleepy Kim leaned in the doorway, his lanky form taking up far more space than seemed possible. 

"Hyung!"

"Channie, Channie, Channie," Sleepy said, shaking his head, lopsided grin on his face. He'd sprouted crow's feet around his eyes, and when his hair caught the light just so, Himchan could make out a few strands of silver among all the black. The effect made him handsome where before he'd always struck Himchan as singularly boyish. "You don't call, you don't write...if it weren't for those articles this week, I wouldn't've known where to find you. Bbang sure ain't talking."

He gave him a firm hug which Himchan returned with relief. He hadn't been able to bring himself to reach out to his old idol friends outside of B.A.P--his best friends were difficult enough. He didn't know how many of the others might have been on the pills themselves, or might have had friends who were. He may have unwittingly screwed things up for some of them--well, depending on your definition of "screwed up"--and he'd been afraid to find out. It was a relief to find his old friend smiling at him. 

"Sorry," he said. "I should've called."

Sleepy waved a careless hand. "Nah, I'm giving you a hard time. I get it." He wandered into the space, hands in his pockets. "I'm glad you're doing this, you know? An orchestra, it's just _right_. It going okay?"

Himchan told him about it briefly, unable to swallow the small swell of pride as Sleepy listened intently. After all this time, he still wanted to impress his hyung. 

"You still taking new students?" he asked. Himchan raised his eyebrows. 

"You want to learn janggu, hyung?"

Sleepy snorted. "Not me," he said. "And not the janggu. I know a kid I think has some chops at writing music. She's done some real cool shit, honestly."

Himchan perched on the edge of the desk, curious. "Why not bring her on at TS?" he had to ask. Sleepy was notorious for taking talent under his wing. Yongguk probably never would have made the switch from underground rapping if not for him. 

Sleepy pulled a face. "Apparently her stuff's too _rough_ ," he said. "Or maybe she's just too much of a girl; who knows." 

Himchan considered. The team of composers he remembered from his old company _had_ all been men. He couldn't remember them ever training up a girl. He was a little embarrassed he'd never noticed before. Trust TS to ignore talent because they didn't like the package it came in. Sleepy's face was twisted in dislike, an odd look on his normally amiable features. 

"What do you mean, too rough?" Himchan asked.

"Well. You remember that song you wrote with Zelo?"

Himchan nodded, though that wasn't exactly how it had happened; he'd just been playing around on the piano and the maknae had recorded him, and then he and Jongup had put lyrics to the music. The result had been strange and funny and angry, and Himchan got impressed with his friends all over again recalling it now. 

"Well--I mean, her stuff doesn't sound anything like that, 'cause nothing fucking does. But it reminds me of that, you know? Kind of strange and--disharmonious. Doesn't sound like anybody else I know. I thought, if TS won't take her, maybe you would. She could go far, just needs some guidance is all. I figure, if you can't join em, beat em."

It was flattering to be asked by someone he respected so much. "I'm not really in charge of who gets into the orchestra," he admitted. Sleepy shrugged.

"Private lessons, then, yeah? Maybe?"

Himchan hesitated--Jongup, he needed time for Jongup--then shook himself. Jongup wouldn't have free time much longer. Plus-- _If you can't join em, beat em._ That sounded like fun. 

"Yeah," he said, starting to smile. "Yeah, I could do that."

*

Yongguk's apartment felt different. Jongup couldn't look directly at the couch without remembering stretching out on it with Himchan. He couldn't look at the picnic table on the porch without remembering the taste of him, the way they'd kissed until their faces went numb with cold. He _definitely_ couldn't look at Yongguk's bedroom door. 

Youngjae and Daehyun had a stack of take-out menus spread across the coffee table and were arguing over what to order. Junhong was stretched out along the couch, smirking knowingly every time he met Jongup's eyes. 

Jongup was pretending to practice walking with just one crutch. He knew the others would interpret his constant movement as nerves over seeing Himchan. Let them. He was too antsy to sit still. It had been _hours_ , and his need to touch the other man, to lay eyes on him, was very strong. Yongguk was unpacking, coming in and out of the room with arms full of clothes, keeping an eye on everyone, casting his votes for food. 

Finally, _finally_ , the front door opened behind Jongup, and Himchan stepped in. He was a slightly mussier version than the man who had dropped Jongup off at the dorm that morning. He'd rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows and his hair had the rumpled look it got when he'd sweat and then run his hands through it repeatedly. 

Jongup thought of how the older man had been that morning, in pajama pants and a faded t-shirt, playing a difficult piece on the janggu. Yet another thing he'd almost forgotten was how much he loved watching Himchan make music. His expression would go intense and faraway and Jongup would just drink him in like a glass of water, content to see him doing what he was born to do. 

Himchan's eyes met his and his lips twitched in the smallest of smiles, his eyebrows arching slightly in a question. Jongup could only roll his eyes and smiled back. 

"Him-u- _chan_!" Youngjae exclaimed, skirting around Jongup to give the elder a hug.

" _Ow,_ Youngjae-yah," Himchan complained as he was pelted with the usual slaps that accompanied a Yoo Youngjae embrace.

"You miss us?" 

"Eh." Himchan shrugged carelessly. 

" _Ehhhh_?" Youngjae repeated, trying to pinch his cheeks. Himchan slapped his hand away and dodged him. 

"Hyung!" Daehyun blew him a kiss from the coffee table, evidently unwilling to leave the menus. "What do you want to eat? We've got it narrowed down to pizza, chicken, bulgogi, noodles--"

"Very narrow," Himchan agreed, rolling his eyes. "Just get something Yongguk'll actually eat."

"I'll eat anything," Yongguk said, coming in, a tigger on his shoulder, open laptop in his hands.

"Yah, don't lie," Himchan said. "And no work tonight, Bbang."

Yongguk closed the laptop obediently. Jongup didn't think he'd listen to anyone but Himchan on the matter--usually not even him. But maybe it had occurred to him that they were _six_ again tonight. They were all here. Not even Bang Yongguk could work through that. 

Himchan gave Jongup a sideways look as he passed, a tiny shy smile. Jongup wanted to wrap his free arm around his waist and pull him in. It wasn't like the others would _mind_. But it might be nice to tell them first, and besides, Daehyun was more prone to hysterics on an empty stomach.

"Himchan hyung." Junhong rolled off the back of the couch and was beaming at the elder. Jongup could sense him wanting to jump up and down again. It was hard not to let his own smile burst through. 

Himchan blinked up at the maknae, then cuffed him lightly on the chin and gave him a swift hug. 

"Hey, Junhongie."

"We'll all eat noodles, right?" Daehyun said with exasperation. 

*                                                            

Himchan disappeared into Yongguk's room to get his things together while they waited for the food. Jongup watched him go, itching to follow.

"Hey!" Junhong spoke up suddenly. "It's really nice out, hyungs, look--" He opened the patio door and gestured grandly.

"You're letting in the cold air," Daehyun complained. 

"C'mon, hyung, it's a beautiful night," Junhong wheedled. Youngjae laughed and rose to his feet, clapping Daehyun on the shoulder as he went to the porch. 

"Humor the maknae," he said, slipping past the taller man and outside. Yongguk shrugged and picked up his soju, then held out a hand to help Daehyun up. Jongup caught Junhong's eye. His friend widened his eyes significantly and Jongup understood. 

"Gotta pee, I'll be right out," he said, leaving the others to their distraction and thumping down the hall.

He passed the bathroom and stopped in Yongguk's doorway. Himchan was zipping his duffel bag closed. 

"Hey," Jongup said, leaning in the doorway. Himchan jumped and turned, breaking into an easy grin at the sight of him. 

"Hi," he said. "Where--?"

"Junhongie took them outside so we could have a minute," Jongup told him. Himchan raised his eyebrows.

"He knows, then?" He didn't sound terribly surprised. Jongup smiled. 

"He figured it out just by looking at me."

"Hmm, we'll have to work on your poker face." Himchan's needed work, too; he couldn't stop grinning. He abandoned his things and joined Jongup, pulling him carefully into the room and then pressing him against the wall just inside the door. Jongup hooked a finger around his shirt collar and pulled him in, and breathed, and breathed, and breathed. 

Himchan smelled amazing and his lips were so soft and his thumbs were drawing circles on Jongup's hips and none of it was _enough_ , but it was also everything. Jongup's hand slid to the back of Himchan's neck, across his shoulder. He had to push his crutch away to wrap his arm around the other man's middle the way he'd been dying do, but between Himchan at his front and the wall at his back, he was fine. He nipped lightly at Himchan's lower lip and heard him chuckle, the vibration rushing through their lips and straight through Jongup to his belly. He needed more. 

"Um. _What?"_

The pair broke apart at the sound of the new voice. Youngjae stood in the doorway, eyes wide. He pointed at Himchan, then at Jongup, then back again. " _What_?" he said again. Himchan cursed under his breath. He'd probably have moved across the room by now, only Jongup's crutch had fallen out of reach, and he clearly didn't want to throw him off-balance. 

"What?" Daehyun's voice came from further down the hall. Jongup hadn't heard them come inside. He wondered how long he and Himchan had been kissing. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Himchan said, pitching his voice louder and rolling his eyes at Youngjae. He hooked Jongup's crutch with one foot and kicked it up. Jongup caught it reluctantly and slid it under his arm, but Himchan didn't have time to move away from him before Daehyun had joined Youngjae in the doorway. The singer's eyes went wide.

"Hey," he said, joining Youngjae in his whole pointing thing. " _Hey_."

"Shut your mouth, Jae, you're drawing flies," Himchan said. He gave Jongup's hip one last reassuring squeeze, then reached out and closed the younger man's mouth with his index finger. Jongup could hear his teeth click together. 

"What's going on?" Yongguk, now, past where Jongup could see him. 

"THAT IS A GOOD QUESTION," Daehyun said loudly. It was Jongup's turn to roll his eyes. He still couldn't tell if his friends' reactions were good or bad, but he found he didn't care that much. It was probably lucky Youngjae had stopped them when he had; a few minutes more and he'd have seen something a lot more awkward. Jongup caught Himchan's eye and had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. 

Daehyun came into the room to make room for Yongguk in the doorway. Junhong hovered a bit beyond.

_Sorry_ , he mouthed to Jongup over the others' shoulders. Jongup shrugged. 

Yongguk took in the situation at a glance--Jongup's rumpled shirt, the flush of Himchan's cheeks, and--well, Himchan's lips had a way of staying _kissed_ -looking for a long time, something he and Jongup had learned to be careful of Before. 

"Oh," the rapper said. 

Daehyun had no such restraint. "When did this happen?" he demanded. "Are you guys--like, officially?"

Jongup glanced at Himchan again. This time, they didn't bother to hide their grins.

"Yes," they said.

Youngjae had his fists in front of his mouth. "Yes?" he squeaked. 

"Yes," they confirmed. 

"Yesssss!" Junhong cheered from the back. "This is so surprising, _wow_!"

Yongguk kept opening and closing his mouth, eyes flickering between the two of them. 

"Since this week?" he said finally. 

"Since last night," Himchan said with a small laugh. 

"Oh my _god oh my god ohmigod_ ," Daehyun chanted, a grin spreading across his face. He clasped his hands to his heart. "You guys--" He stopped, apparently, _magically_ , lost for words. He looked to Youngjae for help, but the younger singer still had his hands in front of his face. He was blinking awfully fast and Jongup could see him swallowing hard. 

Seeing him so choked up, seeing Daehyun's blissed-out smile and Junhong jumping up and down in the back--seeing Yongguk's face relax into his full-on gummy grin--Jongup felt a little choked up himself. Whatever anyone else in the world might think, these four were still rooting for them. 

"This is good news," Yongguk said simply. He and Himchan did some of their hyung eye-talking, then Himchan ducked his head, smiling. Jongup  nudged his shoulder with his forehead. Himchan slipped his arm around his crutchless side. 

"This is the _best_ news," Daehyun corrected. 

"Listen, can I say something?" Himchan spoke up. They went quiet. Junhong was resting his chin on Youngjae's head, an arm slung across his chest. The singer was still damp-eyed. "I just--thank you all," Himchan said. "For--for tweeting that article and saying those things. I don't deserve you guys."

Bashful _pshaw_ 's mingled with affectionate declarations of _Pabo_. Jongup squeezed his hand. 

"We're still six," Yongguk said firmly. Youngjae finally lowered his hands. His lip was trembling a bit but he was smiling.

"You'd have to go a lot farther than the army to get rid of us, hyung," he agreed. 

The buzzer sounded from the front of the apartment, breaking the moment. 

"Dinner!" Daehyun exclaimed, his enthusiasm for food falling just one or two notches lower than that for two of his best friends finding true love in each other again and all that. The group broke up, laughing, Junhong and Youngjae hastily getting out of the doorway so Daehyun could barrel his way to the door. 

Yongguk remained, eyes still searching Jongup and Himchan's faces. Jongup kind of wanted to hide from the intensity of his stare, only he knew that nothing in the world made Yongguk happier than seeing his friends happy. Even Tigger couldn't compete. 

"This is good," the rapper said again. "Right?"

"Nah, Dae was right," Himchan said lightly. "It's the best." Jongup slipped his hand into the other man's back pocket and squeezed. Himchan pressed his lips together to hold in his smile, not very successfully. 

"I have to show you something," Yongguk said abruptly, and left the room. Jongup and Himchan exchanged a look, nonplussed, then followed. Yongguk stopped at the door next to the bathroom, opened it and groped around for the light switch. They peered in over his shoulder.

"God, Bbang. I peeked in here while you were gone but it's _much_ worse with with light on," Himchan said with a snort. 

Yongguk had led them to a closet that was stuffed with _stuff_ \--long racks of clothes and stacks of records and still more Tiggers--he seemed to have arranged the stuffed animals so they would be comfortable even in their neglect--and unopened gift bags from Babyz. No wonder the rest of the apartment was so sparse and clean; he'd clearly taken to shoving everything he didn't need in here, out of sight. 

"There's foooood!" Daehyun called from the living room. They ignored this. Yongguk looked a little embarrassed, scratching at the back of his neck and scuffing his toe against the floor. 

"Yeah, I--wasn't sure what to do with this stuff," he said. 

"Obviously." Himchan, no neat freak himself, gave a superior little sniff. Jongup snickered. 

"I've been meaning to clear it out, though," Yongguk went on. "It's actually a pretty big space. This was kind of sort of billed as a two bedroom apartment."

"No way that's big enough for a _bedroom_ ," Himchan scoffed. He leaned further into the closet. "Jesus. How far back does this thing go?"

"Farther than you think," Yongguk said. "If I got that junk out of there, there'd be plenty of space for a mattress and stuff."

He looked at Jongup and the singer's heart leapt as he got it. Himchan seemed to be only half-listening as he poked around some of the bags nearest the door. 

"You could probably use it for a lot of thing-- _oh_!" He pulled his hand back from a gift bag as though it had stung him. He began to laugh. "Fans should _not_ be giving you _that_ ," he said. "Have you even looked at this stu--what?" He straightened up and found Yongguk and Jongup looking at him expectantly. "What?" he repeated. 

"It _is_ big enough for a bedroom," Yongguk said patiently. "Not a huge one, but still."

"Well, what do you need with a second--oh." Himchan went still. Jongup was wishing he could jump up and down again. This would solve _so much_ \--Himchan could be just two subway stops away, a twenty minute trip, rather than nearly an hour's drive at Hana's. Plus, the room had a _door_ that could be closed for privacy. Yongguk was hardly ever home anyway, and for the times that he was, it would be a comfort to all of them to know someone was around to be sure he ate and slept occasionally. 

"I know it's not much," Yongguk said at Himchan's hesitation.

"It's not that," Himchan said quickly. "I've been living on a couch, are you kidding me? It's just--" he glanced at Jongup. "I--you moved out for a reason, Bbang," he said. "You need alone time, I get that, if I move in here you won't have that, and Jonguppie would be here all the time too--I'm hoping--" Jongup rolled his eyes, deflating a bit. He wished Himchan didn't have to work at being selfless _all_ the damn time. 

"Maybe it's _too_ quiet," Yongguk said. "I'm hardly ever home anyway, honestly. You seriously think I'd mind you two being here?"

Himchan bit his lip and gave the room another appraising look. 

"What are we staring at?" Daehyun came over, paper bowl of noodles in hand. Junhong trailed after him with chopsticks, as it was apparently _his_ dinner the elder had stolen. Youngjae followed a moment later with a glass of soju, any trace of tears gone. Daehyun rested his chin on Himchan's shoulder to look into the room, then let out a yelp and jumped back. Youngjae rubbed his back soothingly. 

"You know you have to warn him before he sees that much clutter," he reminded Yongguk. The rapper pet the singer's hair a few times. 

"What is all this stuff, hyung?" Junhong asked. 

"It's not really the stuff that's important, it's the space," Yongguk told him. The maknae's nose crinkled in confusion. 

"Himchan could move in here if we got this cleared out and he stopped being stubborn," Jongup explained. Himchan gave him a disgruntled look while the others began to exclaim.

"That's a great idea--"

"God, that'd be perfect, hyung--"

"We could help!" Junhong interjected. 

"With all your free time?" Himchan murmured, ignoring Jongup's glare. "Be careful of the fan gifts, Junhongie, seriously, Babyz are clearly outgrowing their name--"

"We'll all help," Jongup said, then glanced down at his useless leg. "I can--sort stuff." Himchan's expression softened. 

"It'll be fun, or something," Youngjae agreed. 

"You'll be so close by!" Daehyun said, as if it was settled. He turned to Yongguk. "Where are your garbage bags? We can do it right now!"

"I'd rather donate stuff than throw it out," Yongguk said with a frown. Daehyun rolled his eyes. 

"No kidding. Garbage bags'll make it easier to transport."

"Oh, right. Kitchen cabinet next to the oven."

Himchan still looked a little anxious, and it was starting to make Jongup anxious, too. He couldn't see the problem. He sidled over to him. 

"You really don't want to?" he asked in a low voice. He'd have thought he'd jump at the chance to live with his best friend, to have privacy for the first time in _years_. To be near Jongup. 

"It's not that," Himchan said. "I just--I should be able to make it on my own, you know?"

Jongup poked his side. "You _are_ ," he said. 

Yongguk had overheard. "We can split the rent," he offered generously.

"50/50," Himchan said immediately. The rapper rolled his eyes. 

"You're not paying half for a _closet_ ," he said. 

"Ha! So you _admit_ it's not a bedroom!" Himchan crowed. 

"Just say yes, okay?" Yongguk said. "We'd _all_ like it. Really."

Daehyun returned with bags. Youngjae was already pulling things into the hallway. 

"You just want to donate all the fan gifts, hyung?"

"Check them first," Himchan and Yongguk said together.

*

It took hours, but far less time than Himchan would have expected. Jongup sat in the hallway and checked gift bags to be sure they didn't accidentally donate any of the hilariously inappropriate presents some Babyz had pressed on Yongguk over the years. Junhong and Himchan went through the clothes. Himchan had been stunned to find some old familiar pieces.

"Bbang?" he said, pulling out a butter-soft leather jacket he remembered very well. His friend smiled. 

"It was one of your favorites, I couldn't stand to get rid of it," he said. 

Youngjae and Daehyun had ventured the farthest into the space, sorting things into neat piles from within, stopping only to call out requests for more garbage bags, soju, or food. Junhong set his phone up on shuffle and music filled the spaces between all the talking and laughter.

Himchan was happy. He was surrounded by his best friends, all willingly giving up a precious night off just to help him. If he'd been able to really believe it, he would have cried. 

"I'm not donating the tiggers," Yongguk was telling Jongup stubbornly. The dancer had stacked them in a giant orange-and-black pyramid beside him. "Babyz picked them out specially. They can go in my room, I'll make space later."

"Fine, I'll take them; I need to stretch my legs." Jongup pushed himself up--he was as graceful with his crutches as without them, Himchan noted with little surprise. Maybe not so good with planning ahead, though. He blinked down at the stuffed animals, then at his crutch-filled hands. Himchan stepped over the growing cluster of filled garbage bags Yongguk was marking up for donation, and grabbed an armful of the tiggers. 

"I've got it, Jonguppie," he said, making for Yongguk's room. Technically, the dancer didn't _have_ to follow him, but Himchan hoped he would and was glad when he did. He had a hunch the others would think twice before following them this time. 

He dumped the tiggers on the bed to bond with the dozen already occupying it, then turned back to his--boyfriend? Could he call him that again already? It seemed too fast, yet it was a wholly inadequate term for what Jongup was to him. 

"We're not forcing you into doing something you don't want to do, right?" Jongup asked. Himchan sighed and shook his head, resting against the edge of the bed. The dancer came to stand above him, handsome face worried. 

"No," Himchan said. He had trouble putting his feelings in words, and he fumbled them. "This is amazing, you're _all_ amazing, I just--I didn't _earn_ this, you know?"

Jongup took a step back to see him more clearly. " _That's_ what you think?" he said. Himchan didn't bother answering; he knew the answer was written on his face. It was Jongup's turn to sigh. "Everyone in this apartment loves you, and you _know_ that's not how love works. There's no _earning_ , or--or deserving. It just _is_."

It was hard to look at his face, which was painfully attractive to begin with, but especially while he was also being insightful. Himchan looked at his shoes instead, and nodded. 

"And--you deserve to be happy," Jongup went on. Himchan looked up at his words. The younger man had his chin jutted out slightly as though he expected him to argue the point. It made Himchan smile. Deserving or not, he couldn't turn away this particular happiness when it was offered so freely.

"You'll stay here with me sometimes, right?" he asked, a bit shyly. They'd agreed to take things slow, after all, but there wasn't exactly a road map. How did you take things slow _after_ you'd already said "I love you" and seen each other naked hundreds of times?

"As soon as you get a bed," Jongup said. 

Fuck the road map.


	13. Chapter 13

Jongup hesitated outside the door. He reminded himself this wasn't some covert operation; he'd been _invited._ Letting himself into Yongguk hyung's apartment--into _Himchan's_ apartment--was totally fine. The other members had bequeathed their spare key to him, with Yongguk's blessing. He wasn't being rude. This was okay. 

Even so, he paused just inside. 

"Hyung?" he called. The apartment was very still, but something in the air suggested recent activity. The dust motes he could see in the sunlight streaming through the porch doors were dancing in a particularly unsettled kind of way.

Sure enough, he heard a twin set of groans from further in. He grinned to himself and shifted the large, zebra-striped gift bag so it hung more comfortably between his hand and his crutch, and made his way to Himchan's room. 

The hallway was littered with a breadcrumb trail of stuff: a few suitcases, one already open and half-emptied; several large garbage bags of clothes; a guitar, a ukulele, Himchan's now-familiar backpack, spilling sheet music across the floor. Jongup made his careful way through the detritus and stopped in the doorway, casting a shadow across the prone figures of his hyungs. 

He stooped awkwardly to put down the gift bag, out of sight. 

"You got a mattress," he observed. 

Himchan was lying down on it, one arm thrown over his eyes in a pose of such dramatic exhaustion that Jongup wanted to laugh--or he would have, if it weren't for the way the older man's t-shirt had ridden up slightly to reveal a smooth strip of skin, or the way his bicep looked really, really nice like that. He took his arm away at the sound of Jongup's voice and squinted up at him. Yongguk lay beside him, his feet next to his head, Yongguk's own head dangling off the far end of the mattress so it looked for a second like he didn't have one.

"Jonguppie," Himchan said warmly, reaching for him. Yongguk grunted and lifted a hand to wave in his general direction. Jongup leaned his crutches against the wall and let Himchan pull him gingerly down beside him. The plastic cover crinkled loudly beneath them, smelling faintly of wood shavings and chemicals. 

"Hi," he said softly, scritching Himchan's head. He hummed happily, turning on his side so his face was pressed against Jongup's thigh. "You guys moved all this stuff today?" He couldn't help feeling guilty. It should be _him_ helping Himchan move, not Yongguk. But he had spent the afternoon at the hospital in physical therapy. Himchan had wanted to go with him--it was an official testing day for his students so he had a rare afternoon free--but Jongup had an official TS escort along with Manager Kang, so he'd persuaded Himchan not to bother.

"Mmm," the older man said. He blinked up Jongup, his gaze going soft. "I think we got everything."

"You have more stuff than I thought." The last Jongup had seen, Himchan was living a very minimalist existence out of a single duffel bag.

"Picked up some stuff from my parents'," Himchan explained. "That's what took forever."

Yongguk grunted in apparent agreement. Jongup frowned. 

"Your parents," he said. "Did you--?" But he stopped before he could form the question, glancing at Yongguk. He saw Himchan follow his gaze, saw that he understood. They would talk about it later. 

Jongup looked around his boyfriend's new room appraisingly. There really had been a surprising amount of space once they cleared out Yongguk's things, but it was still a bit cell-like. The dancer thought maybe he could help with that.

"How was your appointment?" Himchan drew his attention back. He was tracing light circles on Jongup's knee, frowning slightly.

"Oh," Jongup said, remembering. He pulled away from Himchan a bit to show him. Yongguk lifted his head to look. "Check it out--" Slowly, he bent his knee, then stretched it straight again. He couldn't bend it all the way from his seat on the mattress, but that was all right. It was still awfully sore. Himchan's eyes lit up and he sat up to see better. 

"Mooove," Yongguk complained. A quick slapping fight ensued until he and Himchan were seated side-by-side. Yongguk's face was scarily red and he swayed a bit as the blood that had settled there began to flow down again. Himchan steadied him with a hand to the shoulder, never taking his eyes off Jongup.

"That's amazing," he said sincerely. "How do you feel?"

Jongup made a see-saw motion with his hand: _so-so_. Himchan frowned. 

"Do you need anything? Aspirin?"

Jongup recalled the bag in the hallway. "No thanks, I already took some--I have something for you, though!" He scooted off the mattress and did some ungainly crawling to retrieve the surprise. 

"What is this?" Himchan said, accepting it hesitantly, possibly afraid that the giant bow Youngjae had affixed to the gift would shed glitter all over his new room. 

"A house-warming present. Or a room-warming, I guess," Jongup said. "It's from everyone. They're sorry they couldn't come over tonight."

"Oh," Himchan said. As always, he seemed to find the idea of someone doing something nice for him a bit unfathomable. He looked almost shy as he peered into the bag. 

The first thing he pulled out was a sheet of stickers encased in plastic. He lost his hesitant look and began to smile. 

"Glow-in-the-dark stars," he told Yongguk, holding it out for him to see. The rapper smiled. 

"Since you don't have a window," Jongup explained. 

Next up was a sheet set for the bed. Himchan pressed his lips together and his eyes crinkled cutely as he saw the frog pattern. 

"Junhong picked them out," Jongup told him. "Seriously, I didn't even say anything." 

Himchan let out a great _ha!_ and passed the sheets to Yongguk.

"You two and your frog thing," the leader murmured. 

Jongup didn't bother to mention that it had been Junhong's idea to go shopping in the first place. It had been almost two weeks since they'd all cleaned out the room for Himchan. Almost two weeks of Jongup meeting him after work, at the coffee shop between the dorm and apartment, or in the park, or at the apartment. 

It wasn't so long, really, but it was enough for Jongup to catch a glimpse of how life could be. Some nights Himchan cooked dinner for him and Yongguk and whichever members happened to be around. It was too cold now to eat outside, so they spread out around the coffee table the way they used to in the dorm. Himchan would talk about his students or they would tell him about preparations for their next mini-album, or they would talk about neither, about movies or games or the news. After, Himchan would practice janggu or plan lessons for the next day and Jongup would do dishes. He was getting good at balancing in front of the sink. 

If the others were around, they would generally wander off, back to the studio or the dorm, and Himchan and Jongup would be on their own. 

Jongup didn't think he'd ever get tired of kissing him. He'd never get tired of the feel of his body under him, or against him, or his weight on him. He'd never get tired of the little involuntary noises he made when they kissed, the ones that sent shivers all the way through him. 

So far they hadn't done more than kiss, partly because they wanted to take their time and partly because of Jongup's stupid knee and partly because they didn't have anywhere to _do_ things until Himchan had a bed. But there was no rush. 

Except Jongup had started having these _dreams._ They were all sex, but with too many limbs and obscene sounds and _writhing_. Any other time he'd have found them disturbing rather than hot, but his dick was on a hair trigger these days. He found himself missing entire swaths of conversations, unable to tear his eyes away from Himchan's lips. Two years was a very long time. He'd thought he was good at releasing the tension on his own, but having Himchan back in front of him was sweet torture.

He'd finally told Junhong about the dreams. His friend hadn't seemed all that surprised, and when he had a break from practice, suggested they get Himchan some of the things he'd need once he finally got his belongings moved in. 

"Bet he and Yongguk hyung won't even think about sheets," he said confidently. Looking around Himchan's room now at what he'd brought, Jongup was certain his friend had been right. 

They'd bought a blanket, too, soft and deep green and not too heavy, since Himchan overheated so easily. 

"This is perfect, Jonguppie."

"There's a little more." 

Himchan delved back into the bag. There were two framed pictures at the bottom. The first was of the whole group. They were piled in a joyful heap on the floor of Yongguk's studio. Jongup's head was on Junhong's stomach and Himchan's legs were over him and they were all laughing. 

"I remember this," Himchan said, peering at the picture. "The first time we heard our second album. I forgot Kang took this."

Yongguk put his chin on Himchan's shoulder to see the picture better.

"I still think that album was our best," he said. Himchan smiled and put the picture down very carefully before picking up the second frame. This one was just him and Jongup. Youngjae probably took it; Jongup wasn't sure. They weren't looking at the camera. Someone had captured them on the couch in the studio, laughing at something together, their legs tangled. 

"That's a good one," Himchan said after staring at it a minute. He was smiling a small, private smile. "Did I ever tell you I first figured out how I felt about you because I saw us in some pictures together?"

"I thought _I_ told you," Yongguk said before Jongup could answer. Himchan shushed him. The rapper crawled off the mattress. "I have something for you, too," he said, scrambling to his feet and darting down the hall to his own room.

"This was really sweet," Himchan said. It seemed to hit him suddenly that they were alone, and he leaned in and kissed Jongup lightly. Jongup didn't want to let him pull away again, but he heard Yongguk's footsteps approaching. 

The rapper handed Himchan a sloppily-wrapped box. He'd clearly done it himself. Himchan gave him a dubious look.

"You didn't have to do this, you already gave me a place to live," he chided, turning the box over in his hands. Yongguk shrugged. 

"Call it a thank you for all the times you know you're gonna cook for me," he said. Himchan snorted and tore away the corner of the wrapping paper. 

"Bbang..." he said warningly. Jongup could see half of the Disney logo. 

"It's not Tigger," Yongguk said immediately. Himchan narrowed his eyes and tore the rest of the paper away. He stared at it for a beat before turning it around so Jongup could see. The dancer caught sight of a dour blue face, a tail pinned on with a bow. Yongguk was giggling in his wheezy way. 

"It's a lamp," he explained. "You're way more like Eeyore anyway."

"I hate you," Himchan told him, his words slightly belied by the fact that he was trying not to laugh too. "I hate you very much."

"Aw, the lamp shade looks like an umbrella," Jongup saw. It was pretty cute. And funny to think of Yongguk actually _buying_ it.

"Happy move-in," the rapper said, pinching Himchan's ear. 

**

Yongguk and Himchan wrestled the mattress out of its bag. 

"It was nice of Hana to get this for you," Jongup said. Himchan nodded, swiping a strand of hair off his sweaty face with his forearm.

 "She must be so happy to get me out of her house finally."

Jongup didn't believe this for a second. They'd spent the past Saturday together at Hana's house, baby-sitting Sangmi for a few hours. It went better than the first time. Himchan had gotten the hang of the baby thing, and she obviously had him wrapped around her tiny finger. Himchan was her playground, court jester and servant all rolled into one. 

And when Hana and Sanghun had returned, it was clear that they had all mastered this routine, Himchan cooking for everyone while Sanghun and Hana took turns with Sangmi. The house felt bustling and happy, but every so often Jongup caught Hana watching her brother sadly.

"She's gonna miss you," he told him now. He knew the feeling was mutual; technically it needn't have taken Himchan two weeks to get his belongings over to Yongguk's, even busy as he was. He would miss his sister and niece, and Sanghun too, so quietly kind. 

Himchan just grunted and wadded the thick plastic up into a ball in his arms. 

"Here, I'll toss that down the chute," Yongguk said, taking it from him. "Then I need to get to the studio."

"Tonight?" Himchan said with a frown. "I didn't think you had schedules until next week?"

Yongguk shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable. "I have stuff I should work on anyway," he said. "Probably spend the night there."

Himchan's frown deepened, but he seemed to think better of whatever he wanted to say. Yongguk ruffled his hair and tugged Jongup's hair affectionately on his way out. 

"See you tomorrow..."

Jongup watched him go, then turned back to Himchan. 

"I should get the rest of my stuff in here," the older man said. 

"I can help. I'm getting pretty good with just one crutch," Jongup said. 

"Nah, just--keep me company?" Himchan said, smiling. So Jongup did, sitting on the floor next to the mattress and putting the sheets on it a bit clumsily as Himchan dragged his bags of clothes inside. 

"Tell me more about your appointment," he said. 

"There's not that much yet. They're getting me a cane," Jongup told him, making a face. 

"A _cane_?"

"So I can ditch the crutches. I asked for one with a sword hidden inside and he said he'd try to find one, but I think he was joking." (Jongup had _not_ been joking.) 

"You'll be glad to get rid of these," Himchan guessed, motioning to the crutches leaning against the wall. 

"I'm already partly done with them," Jongup said. He pushed himself up and swayed on the spot a little. Himchan turned from where he was sorting through clothes. Jongup grinned at him and then took a cautious step, then another. Himchan's eyes widened. 

"Jongup!"

"As long as I'm on a flat, even surface, it's supposed to be okay, as long as I just do a little at a time," he explained, taking another step toward the other man. It hurt--a lot, if he was honest. But it was almost the _good_ kind of hurt, like when he pushed himself a bit too far in the studio. He was supposed to walk a bit on his own every day, and do a bit more once he had the cane. Pain was to be expected for awhile, but Jongup would live with it if it speeded his recovery.

Himchan rose from his crouch and Jongup took the final step to close the distance between them, relieved when Himchan's arms wrapped around his middle, supporting him so he could take his weight off his knee. Walking was hard. 

But Himchan was smiling at him proudly. 

"Amazing," he said. Jongup just nodded, his eyes going to Himchan's lips again. There was a light sheen of sweat above them, and when he kissed him, the salt mingled with the sweet taste of the energy drink Himchan must have drunk earlier. 

They kissed slowly, languidly, Himchan's hands playing with the hem of Jongup's shirt, slipping under it occasionally to brush against the small of his back. He shivered and his own hands tightened their hold on Himchan's hips. They pulled away at the same time. 

"Will you stay over tonight?" Himchan asked shyly. Jongup just nodded, not trusting his voice to speak yet. Himchan smiled and kissed him again. Jongup thought he could happily stay like this forever--then, unbidden, an image from his dreams flashed behind his eyes. He jerked away from Himchan, the sensation of their bodies pressed together suddenly too much. The other man looked startled. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Jongup said quickly, too embarrassed to say what he was thinking, which was an all-caps statement of _WANT_. "Just--let's finish this so you're settled in."

Himchan gave him a quizzical look but let him go. Jongup turned away and busied himself with spreading the blanket out across the bed, trying to get himself under control. 

"How was it seeing your parents?" he asked. There was a pause and he almost wished he hadn't brought it up. 

Almost two weeks back together. Almost two weeks of making out at every opportunity. Of the kind of happiness his memory had diminished until he'd almost forgotten how it filled his chest and lifted his feet off the ground. Of this _wanting_ , big enough he'd be afraid it would crush him but for the fact that he knew eventually it would be satisfied.

But it was also almost two weeks of running into the borders set by the last two years. They could be open around Hana, but Himchan's parents were still a touchy subject. Jongup had been dodging his brothers' calls, unwilling to lie to them yet unsure how to break the news. It felt too soon; he and Himchan still had so much to talk about. 

And there were moments sometimes when the past ran into them in ways Jongup couldn't understand. There was the time they got, er, _distracted_ while Himchan was cooking. The fire alarm went off as smoke filled the kitchen. Jongup had been amused at first, watching Himchan race around to open the windows and turn on the fans, until he realized the older man was shaking, his mouth a thin line. He wouldn't talk about it and was closed-lipped and distracted the rest of the night. Jongup couldn't draw him out, and it hurt to realize there were things about Himchan he didn't know.

"I didn't tell them yet." 

Jongup turned at his words. The other man looked back at him steadily. 

"You didn't have to," Jongup said. "I haven't told my hyungs yet, either..."

"I know, I just--we said we want to do things differently this time, but we...haven't really talked about what that means yet?"

Jongup nodded. "We haven't," he agreed. He saw Himchan was nervous. That was another thing, the way Himchan was still sometimes careful around him now, skirting around the shape of the anger he no longer felt. He didn't like it--Himchan wasn't supposed to be _careful_ with him--but he hadn't thought of a way to broach the subject without making it worse.

Time. They had time. 

"We will," he assured Himchan, smiling. "We'll figure it out. It'll be easier now we have, you know--" He motioned around the room. "privacy." The other man nodded.

"You're right--hey, you made my bed!" Himchan collapsed onto it with a blissful smile. "My _bed_ ," he repeated. " _My_ bed."

Jongup grinned down at him. "Well, if you don't feel like sharing," he said, turning toward the door. Himchan sat up quickly and grabbed his wrist.

"Don't you dare leave," he said. Jongup laughed a little. 

"I wasn't going to."

Himchan relaxed, though he kept Jongup's wrist held lightly between his thumb and index finger. 

"Good. I'd have used up all my energy trying to convince you," he said with a laugh. He scrubbed his free hand over his face. "Ugh, I'm disgusting, I need a shower."

Jongup froze. It was an innocent comment, but his words had sent a new set of images careening around Jongup's mind. He remembered exactly what Himchan looked like in the shower, and there wasn't much in the world that could compare. 

"Okay," he said without thinking. He held out his hand and Himchan took it, fixing him with a questioning stare. Jongup braced his good leg and pulled him up. "Do you, um. Want company?"

"Yes." Himchan didn't hesitate. "I mean, so long as your leg--can you really--?"

"Oh, I didn't mean _me_ ; I was just gonna grab someone from off the street for you."

Himchan punched his shoulder and Jongup grinned. He didn't let go of his hand. "Yeah, it'll be a lot easier now; the new brace they gave me isn't so annoying to take on and off."

"All right then." They just stood there for a minute, holding hands and smiling stupidly at each other. Then Jongup tugged on Himchan's hand and they got moving. 

They couldn't do the whole kiss-and-walk thing without risking Jongup's knee, so they just...walked. Like they were going to the convenience store or something. It felt very odd. Jongup's stomach was doing the flips he hadn't been able to do in a month. 

In the bathroom, when he went to take his shirt off, he realized his hands were trembling. Himchan's eyes flickered down his chest and he wet his lips, then yanked his own shirt over his head. Jongup tried to swallow but his mouth was dry. He was already half-hard in his jeans and they hadn't even touched yet. But Himchan was so beautiful. He was more muscular than he used to be, and Jongup mourned the loss of the soft, slightly rounded plane of his stomach, but the moment he pressed against him, all thought flew from his head. His skin was as soft as ever and he smelled like _Himchan_ and--

He kissed him softly at first. Jongup needed more. He pushed against Himchan so their bodies were flush, smiling into the kiss when he realized the other man was already as far along as he was. Himchan ran a hand around Jongup's hip to the small of his back, pulling him tighter against him, while his other hand held his jaw. Jongup ran his hands up and down his sides, reacquainting himself with the feel of his skin--then, down over his jeans. Himchan broke away, breathing unsteadily. 

"We're not gonna make it to the shower at this rate," he said. 

"Take off your pants," Jongup said.

He had to sit on the toilet seat once his jeans were off to take off his new leg brace. Himchan knelt in front of him and helped slide it off, fingers tracing the line of his calf, then ankle, then tickling the bottom of his foot. Jongup twitched away, laughing, and Himchan smiled, but his eyes stayed serious, moving down Jongup's body again. He mumbled something. Jongup blinked.

"Did you just--say hello to my abs?" 

"It's been a long time; we used to be very close," Himchan defended himself. Jongup laughed and stood up. Himchan stayed where he was for a beat, looking up at him, and a rush of heat engulfed the dancer as he remembered the times the older man had been in this position before. 

Himchan was right, they were never going to make it to the shower.

He pulled him up and against him, reaching blindly into the shower to turn it on. Himchan hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his boxers and pushed them down, then gave his own the same treatment. The sensation of all of Himchan pressed against all of Jongup made him gasp. Himchan pressed his lips against his pulse, bit down very lightly. He reached up with one hand and tugged Jongup's hair free of its pony tail. He'd been letting it grow out since his fall, partly because he couldn't be bothered finding someone to cut it and partly because he liked the way Himchan pulled it when they made out. Some of it fell in front of his eyes and Himchan pushed it out of his face. 

"We need to be careful," he said. Jongup could hear the strain in his voice. "Your knee, I mean--"

"Right, yeah, we will," the dancer assured him, barely even registering his words. He stepped--yes, carefully--into the shower, closing his eyes against the hot stream of water until he was on the other side of it. He pulled Himchan in after him. 

Himchan pressed him against the shower wall--Jongup gasped as he hit the cold tile--and now there was nothing gentle about the kiss. Himchan dragged Jongup's lower lip between his teeth. Jongup wound his arms around his neck, pulling him as close as he could, his hips already beginning to move of their own accord, desperate for friction. 

"Jonguppie--" Himchan broke away and Jongup whined, trailing his lips down the other man's jaw and to his throat, needing to taste him everywhere. "I have--a confession to make."

The dancer pulled back just enough to see his face. 

"You have to make it _now_?" he complained. Himchan's face was flushed, his wet hair hanging in his eyes. Jongup pushed it out of the way. Himchan smiled. 

"I--it's been a long time. This is--mm--" He hummed as Jongup's hips moved again. Bad hips. (Good hips.) "This is gonna be fast." He paused, eyes on Jongup's lips. "Really fast. Humiliatingly fast."

Jongup smirked and nipped playfully at Himchan's full lower lip, running his tongue along it. He already felt himself unspooling, his self-control spinning out of reach. This felt so _good_ \--

"It's been a long time for me too," he said, pulling back to admire his handiwork. "Why do you think I wanted to start in the shower?"

"You're so smart," Himchan said, chuckling as he leaned back in. "All right, then. I'll race you..."

*

The first time _was_ fast. Himchan had them both in hand, his grip slick with water and body wash, and he maybe managed a dozen strokes before his face changed. Seeing him so near the edge sent Jongup rocketing over it half a beat before him. 

"I win," he managed through his gasps. Himchan started laughing, and then Jongup was laughing too. 

They'd had sex lots of times and lots of ways, Before. But Jongup's favorites had always been the times they were laughing, when the line between Himchan-his-friend and Himchan-his-boyfriend disappeared. Sex with Himchan wasn't just hot, it was _fun_. 

This was fun. 

Once wasn't enough, wasn't _nearly_ enough. Thankfully, they were on the same page there. Himchan let Jongup press him against the wall, hands toying lazily with his hair. 

"I suppose it was too much to hope our first time back would be slow and romantic," he said. 

"Maybe we'll have more luck with the second go," Jongup said. He studied the various bottles lining the shower and picked out one that had been tucked in the back. He opened it and gave a sniff before offering it to Himchan. "This shampoo smells like flowers, so--"

Himchan grinned. "So thoughtful," he said. He pulled Jongup close again and the dancer shivered. "Are you all right? Is your leg--?"

"What leg?" Jongup said. He kissed Himchan again, let him move them gently so he was the one leaning against the wall. His hands wouldn't be still, moving up and down Himchan's sides, up his back, down to reacquaint themselves with his ass. He gripped it hard and Himchan made an unmanly _eep!_ that made them both crack up, laughing into each other's mouths. 

Jongup could feel Himchan was hard again, but before he could do anything about that, his boyfriend was kneeling in front of him, hands gripping his hips, and then his mouth was on him and Jongup's brain flew straight out of his head.

*

Jongup blew a raspberry in the crook of Himchan's neck and received a light bite on his earlobe in response.

"I don't want to leave," Himchan whined, linking his hands behind the dancer's back. "This shower is magical."

Jongup agreed. The hot water had held out longer than it had any right to, only now growing tepid. The dancer felt boneless and sated and deeply happy. 

"Maybe your bed is magical, too," he suggested.

"Mm." Himchan dropped light kisses along his hairline, then let his lips linger on his cheekbone. "I love you."

Jongup closed his eyes and went very still. Himchan had said the words so many times before you might think they would lose their power, become commonplace. But they'd never failed to make Jongup feel safe, wanted, right. 

Himchan was more sparing with them now, though Jongup knew they were as true as they'd ever been. After all, Jongup had never been one to say them often, but he felt them every time he looked at the other man. 

He didn't have a chance to say it back now; his boyfriend leaned around him and shut the water off, saying briskly, "Let's get you off your feet."

Oh, right. His knee _was_ kind of throbbing, but in a distant and unimportant kind of way. Jongup let Himchan help him out of the shower and smother him in a towel. 

"Hyuuuung," he complained laughingly. He found the other man's side and tickled it. 

"Aishh! Okay, okay, truce--"

Jongup pushed the towel off his head and stuck his tongue out at him. Himchan only grinned, rubbing his towel over his messy hair before stooping to collect their clothes. Jongup watched, admiring the view. 

And then frowned. Half a dozen marks marred the pale expanse of Himchan's back, pinkish and no larger than a coin, though slightly irregular in shape. They hadn't been there two years ago.

Jongup reached out to touch one, to assure himself it wasn't just a trick of the bathroom light. Himchan jumped and turned back, saw his expression.

"Hyung, what is this?" Jongup said--except he knew. Oddly smooth and _blank_ -feeling, just like the scar on Jongin's leg from the skating accident when he was a kid. Himchan's face went still, all the warmth and good humor sliding away. 

"It's--" he said.

"I'm--" he said.

"Just--" he said.

He had the same look on his face he'd had the other night in the kitchen when the smoke detector started blaring. 

Jongup could only watch him struggle for words for a moment. 

"C'mon," he said gently, tugging on Himchan's hand. He pulled him back to his room, grateful that the neat piles of clothes he'd folded earlier had some comfy stuff on top. He passed Himchan a pair of shorts--he was always overly warm after he showered--and tugged on a pair of sweats himself. He'd worry about his knee brace later. 

Himchan just stood there, holding a t-shirt and looking a bit lost. Jongup settled himself on the mattress against his pillows and switched on the Eeyore lamp, flooding the room with a warm glow. 

"Himchan." He stretched his legs out in a V and opened his arms. He was a little worried his boyfriend would keep standing there like a statue, but he immediately crawled into Jongup's arms, leaning against his chest. The dancer wrapped his good leg around his middle and for a long moment just held him there, right hand pressed to his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Finally, some of the tension left Himchan's shoulders. He relaxed into Jongup, one hand gripping his knee lightly and the other finding his hand. 

"Sorry," he said hoarsely. Jongup nudged the shell of his ear with his nose.

"What for?"

"I don't know--freaking out, I guess. Or--there's something. Something happened, I--" he stammered and Jongup could feel him tense up again. He held him tighter, pressed his lips to his shoulder until he felt him start to relax again.

"You know you can talk to me about anything," he said softly. Himchan nodded. He began to twist Jongup's ring around his finger--he'd begun to wear it again the week before. They hadn't discussed it, but he'd seen Himchan see it the first time, had seen the way his eyes went very bright. His ring had migrated from the chain around his neck and back to his hand that same night.

"I haven't told anyone about this," Himchan said. "Not Hana or Yongguk."

Jongup craned his neck to see his face as best he could. 

"Do you want to tell me?" he asked. Himchan tilted his head so Jongup's nose grazed his cheek. 

"I don't want to tell anyone else," he said.

"Okay," Jongup said. He rested his chin on Himchan's shoulder and waited for him to find his voice. 

Finally, Himchan began to speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends--I had to choose between posting sooner and ending on a lil cliffhanger, or waiting and posting a MONSTER chapter all at once. Obviously I went with option one. The next part is well underway so hopefully I will be able to get it posted soon. Thank you, as always, for your patience, and for reading. I appreciate you. <3


	14. Chapter 14

He began.

"For any of this to make sense, you need to know about Yang." 

Himchan had done his best to steer clear after his first awkward meeting with the younger man--no mean feat, since Yang slept in the bunk right over his. Himchan felt like the whole _unit_ was hanging over him, smothering him with their constant presence. Kyung was the worst, of course, but Yang was second. 

"Why?" Jongup asked. 

"He reminded me of you and Junhong," Himchan said. "He even _looked_ a little like Junhongie, or at least I thought so at first." 

Back then, he saw all the members, all the time--one of the other soldiers would rub at a kink in his neck and Himchan would see Yongguk, exhausted at the end of a long day in the studio. Or someone would laugh too loudly at the wrong moment, and he'd miss scolding Daehyun. Three men had Youngjae's nose, somehow. Yang combined Junhong's height and youth with Jongup's old anxious habits. He was always shifting from foot to foot and Himchan had to battle the urge to throw an arm across his shoulders to calm him down. 

It was like being haunted.

So he kept to himself, avoiding Kyung and Yang and the ghosts of bandmates past. But then Yongguk's letter arrived with a postscript in the maknae's messy scrawl, with actual news about Jongup, and the walls fell. 

"I felt like I was going crazy, Just the thought of actually seeing you again...I was kind of obsessed," Himchan said. "I think--I'd almost convinced myself I'd dreamed you up; that's how distant I felt from my life. I thought if I could just _see_ you again, even on TV, I'd...wake up. So I wasn't as careful as I should've been."

"And Kyung found you," Jongup said. Himchan nodded. 

"Yang too, but I wasn't thinking about that at the time. We all went to the bar and I got to see you dance, and--" He stopped, shifting a little in Jongup's arms. The dancer kissed the side of his neck. 

"You cried, didn't you," he said.  Himchan laughed, flicking his wrist gently. 

"Of course not. Well, not until after." He gave him a sideways, sheepish smile. "Made it all the way through and then I pretty much imploded in the alley behind the bar."

*

**Then**

*

It came over him very suddenly. Jongup's performance was over and the crowd had turned festive and celebratory, strangers and fellow soldiers alike clapping Himchan on the shoulder and teasing him good-naturedly. He managed to keep the smile pasted on his face, but the bar and everyone inside  pressed in on him, crowding him, compressing his chest.

He pretended to head for the bathroom and then ducked out a side door, gasping as the cold night air hit his face like a slap. 

He couldn't breathe.

Jongup. Jongup was out there, _right now_ , and Himchan wasn't with him. He'd sent a gift--stupid; Jongup probably wouldn't even know what the hell to make of the thing--but who knew if he'd even receive it amid all the presents fans were sure to send. He wouldn't know Himchan had found a way to see him, that he was still rooting for him, always. 

He'd always been with Jongup after performances. The dancer would be backstage now, flushed and sweating and giddy as adrenaline coursed through him. Himchan wanted to tell him how proud he was, how impressed. The routine had been gorgeous and acrobatic, even for Jongup, and Himchan knew enough to recognize it must have taken an immense amount of work. 

Spots danced in his vision but he managed to make out an overturned milk crate next to the dumpster. He made his hobbling way over to it, sat, put his head between his knees. He grabbed at the chain around his neck and squeezed until he could feel his ring imprinting on the palm of his hand. It was hot from being pressed against his chest under his clothes. 

For a moment, he allowed himself the luxury of picturing Jongup's face, his intense expression as he performed. He almost never let himself do this, as once he started it was difficult to stop. Jongup's hair was _blue_ , of all colors, and it suited him insanely well. He looked amazing, he _was_ amazing, and Himchan had no idea how he was supposed to live without him.

"Are you gonna pass out?"

His head jerked up. Yang stood a short way down the alley, cigarette clutched loosely in his hand, an expression of equal parts concern and hesitation on his face. 

Himchan didn't have the energy to spare for embarrassment. 

"I don't think so." His voice was raspy in the dark. The younger man approached and hunkered down across the alley, observing him. As always, his posture brought to mind Junhong, all too-long limbs and insane youth. 

"Is it because you saw your friend?" he asked. 

"He's not my friend," Himchan said automatically. It felt good to say something true, even though he knew Yang wouldn't understand.

"Your dongsaeng, I mean."

He nodded slowly. Yang nodded too. 

"I get it," he said incorrectly. "I miss people a lot too." So maybe he wasn't so wrong. He shifted a little in his crouch and fell sideways onto his butt. "Oops," he muttered. He was drunk, Himchan realized. Drunk and clumsy and just a kid, really. 

"Take it easy over there," he advised as Yang arranged himself cross-legged on the ground. 

"You know tonight's the most I've heard you talk since we got here?" Yang said. "I think I heard you make a _joke_ in there. You're always--" he hiccuped and gestured expansively with his forgotten cigarette. "so serious."

"It's a serious place."

Yang widened his eyes at him. "You're scary, though," he informed him. "I thought you were gonna kill me in my sleep that first night."

Himchan ignored this little bit of hyperbole. "How come you didn't switch bunks if you were so worried?"

"Kyung. He really likes you. I don't know why." 

Himchan burst out laughing and a horrified look crossed Yang's face as he realized what he'd said. "I didn't mean it like that!" he cried. "I just--cause it seems like he annoys you so much, that's all."

"It's okay," Himchan said, smiling for real now. He hadn't laughed in a long time. "Your honesty's refreshing." He pulled his pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. 

Kyung _did_ annoy him, of course. He'd poke and prod at Himchan until he got a rise out of him, and always seemed delighted when he snapped. He was a little like Youngjae on his punchiest days...except not. He wasn't like any of the members, really. Maybe that was why, with each passing day, Himchan minded his presence less and less.

"Anyway, you can relax now; you know the truth," he told Yang around his cigarette. "I'm just a giant wreck."

"That's good," Yang said. Himchan quirked an eyebrow at him. The younger man was playing with a loose thread on his coat. "I thought I was the only one."

*

**Now**

*

"So you were friends," Jongup said. Himchan sighed, pulling out of his reverie. He shook his head. 

"He was my dongsaeng," he said. "He was--I dunno how to explain it."

"You were protective of him."

He nodded. "I didn't want to be," he admitted. "Not making friends there...I thought it'd be easier, you know?" Jongup nudged him with his nose. 

"Doesn't sound like you," he said quietly. 

"I _wasn't_ so much me for awhile," Himchan said. "I didn't really know _how_ to be, on my own, after...everything." Jongup's grip turned too tight and painful, but he didn't mind. Jongup was _here_ , and nothing mattered more than that. 

He'd done all right for awhile, not being himself or anyone in particular. Those first months he'd been in a kind of haze, unable to feel anything worse than the occasional irritation at Kyung, but even that felt distant. But seeing Jongup for the first time, he couldn't be distant. He couldn't not feel anything, so all of a sudden he felt _everything_ , and Yang was there. 

"He was drunk and he just started talking to me about his friends back home, his little sister, his girlfriend, all the people he missed, and I just--I felt bad for him."

"Of course," Jongup said. Himchan shook his head, needing him to understand.

"No, but--I hadn't felt bad for anyone--I hadn't really felt _anything_ , period, since I got there. That night, though--seeing you--it was the first time I felt like myself in _months_ , and then I couldn't stop."

They had talked in the alley until Himchan didn't see Junhong or Jongup in Yang anymore. He was a smart kid, good with computers, not quite sure what he wanted to do with his life. Design video games, maybe, though he had only the vaguest idea of how he could do such a thing. Enlisting was supposed to put off the inevitable decision-making. 

Himchan liked him. He didn't have much advice to give, but it had felt surprisingly good to listen to someone else's worries for a change instead of suppressing his own. He felt like a hyung again. He hadn't realized he'd missed that.

Later, when they'd been making their way back to base, the group of soldiers drunk and congenial, Yang slung an arm across Himchan's shoulders. It was the first time he'd been touched in ages. He'd ignored the way his throat went tight--he'd gotten close enough to tears for one night, thanks--and rolled his eyes as the younger man pet his hair fondly.  

_Kim's my hyung now!_ he'd shouted to the group at large, and they all cheered except for Kyung, who just laughed.

_About fucking time,_ he said.

"I guess Kyung already kind of told you that part; that was when I got to be friends with everyone," Himchan said. 

"I hate thinking of you by yourself before that," Jongup said. Himchan turned to see his handsome face was tight and worried. Himchan took his hand and pressed his lips to his palm.

*

"For it to make sense, you have to understand life on the base," Himchan said, and Jongup sat up a little straighter. He was basically _dying_ to understand life on the base. "It was mostly boring routine, the same stuff every day. There were rotations. You'd do a week in the kitchens, then take a turn in the armory, then some specialty training, then they'd usually send us out on field missions, and then the cycle would start over. Sometimes you'd stuck with grunt work for awhile, the real nasty deep cleaning stuff no one wanted to do, bathrooms and stuff."

"Like what you had to do after you snuck off the base?" Jongup said. Himchan hummed, settling himself more comfortably in his arms. 

"Yeah. Usually it didn't last so long, though; it'd just be for a morning here or there. That's--what I was doing when...when it happened. It was about six months ago."

Jongup supposed he'd known it would be this--the mystery of the phone call.

Himchan's breaths had started to come a bit unsteadily and Jongup tensed, nervous. The scars on his back--wherever this story was going, it was quickly taking the dancer out of his depths, and he sensed Himchan needed him to keep them both afloat. No way he'd let him down. He kissed the back of his shoulder, squeezed his hand, murmured some comforting bit of nonsense.

In time, Himchan began again.

"For it to make any sense--for it to make sense--" he stuttered. "You have to--understand the kinds of weapons and equipment we kept in the armory, they--" He faltered.

"You don't need to explain all that," Jongup said softly. "Just tell me what happened."

Himchan let out his breath in a rush. 

"There was an explosion. We had some newer recruits then and somehow something go put away wrong, it wasn't--secured right? Yang was on rounds in there with some of the new guys and something came unattached, and--and an armory's a very, very bad place for something to fall."

*

It didn't make sense.

Himchan had run through it over and over in his mind, and yet. 

"I was mixing mop water for latrine duty when it happened. I would've thought it was an artillery drill, but I could _feel_ it, like an earthquake. It was too close. I ran outside and saw the smoke and--" He played the tape in his mind as he talked. Jongup's arms were anchoring him in the present so he couldn't get lost. 

He'd run outside and seen the smoke, seen where it was coming from. Had recalled clapping Yang on the back as they parted ways after lunch, just a few short hours before. 

_"Be nice to the new kids_ ," he'd said, grinning at the fidgety group waiting for Yang outside the armory. 

_"Can't believe our little Yang's in charge. They grow up so fast,"_ Kyung sniffed. Yang waved them off. 

" _Yah, have fun with the toilets, hyung_ ," he called after Himchan.

Then the armory was on fire, smoke pouring from the high windows in black drifts.

The tape skipped in the same place every time.

"And then I was dragging Yang out of the armory and he was bleeding, and--" He couldn't bring himself to describe it for Jongup, the details he remembered so well they felt branded onto his brain: a bubble of blood bursting at the corner of Yang's mouth. _I think we forgot something_. And the moment he looked down his friend's body to see exactly what they'd left behind.

"I don't understand," Jongup said. "One minute you were looking at the smoke, and then--"

"Because I can't remember." He hadn't said it out loud before, not even to Kyung. "I saw the smoke and then there's nothing until we were already out. It's just...blank."

Jongup was silent behind him--contemplating how fastest to summon the men in white coats, maybe. It sounded insane even to Himchan. 

"You ran into the armory," Jongup said at last. " _That's_ what Kyung was talking about." He muttered this last so quietly he might have been talking to himself. Himchan twisted to see his face, dark and pensive.

"What?"

"He said--we were talking that night at the bar, you were getting us drinks--he said something about how you're the kind of guy to run into a fire without thinking. I thought he was being, like--hypothetical?"

"He's not overly given to metaphor," Himchan said dryly.

"What happened to Yang? Is he okay?"

"He's alive," Himchan said. "Minus a hand and everything below the elbow."

Jongup hissed in his breath. "God, hyung. What about--the other guys, did they--?"

"Alive but one. Han Seungho, one of the new kids. I never met him."

He'd seen his body, after. It had been enough to make him wish his brain had hidden away _all_ his memories of the day.

Jongup was holding his hand and now his grip tightened enough to hurt. 

"And--and the scars on your back?" He touched one with a fingertip. Himchan could feel it dully, an odd sensation. 

"There was a second explosion as we got out," he said. "There was burning debris raining down everywhere. I didn't even realize I got hit until later." He didn't remember the second explosion at all, just that his ears were ringing for hours after.

Jongup's fingers continued to trace across his back for a moment, then he wrapped both arms around Himchan's chest. His nose pressed the nape of his neck.  

"I don't know what to say," he admitted, his words slightly muffled against Himchan's back. "But you were really brave."

Himchan winced and pulled away. Jongup made a protesting noise, reaching for him, but Himchan swiveled to face him. 

I wasn't," he said. He could see he didn't understand. He _needed_ him to understand. "Didn't you hear me? I don't remember going in. There wasn't--I didn't _decide_ to do it. Our whole--look." He tented his fingers in front of his face, trying to calm down. 

"There are soldiers who spend their whole enlistment in actual danger," he said. "Us? We were just--it was basically extensive training for two years. Even our field missions were mostly simulations. There are guys out there who deserve credit for _really_ being brave. This? This was a stupid accident." He studied his palms, unable to meet Jongup's eyes. "Yang lost a _hand_ , and I got a few patches of scar tissue, and they made me _Sergeant_ after the investigation was done. Stupid." He could hear the bitterness in his own voice, inescapable. The memory still made him ill.

Jongup considered this for a moment. "What happened to your mom was an accident too, hyung," he said finally. "It still mattered. You think you're less brave because you didn't think before running towards an explosion?" He arched an eyebrow in challenge. His hands found Himchan's again and gripped them tightly. "I get what you're saying but you're wrong. It _was_ brave. Even if you didn't think. Even if you can't remember. If there was a second explosion, you probably saved your friend's life. _You_ could've--" He stopped and swallowed hard, his eyes intent on Himchan's face. "You could've--" he said again. 

Himchan sighed and scooted forward, resting his forehead against the younger man's. "I didn't," he said. Jongup nodded against him. He brought one hand up to grip the back of Himchan's neck. 

"Well," he said finally. "I guess I get why you don't exactly like talking about it."

*

They took a break. Himchan went to the kitchen to get them some water. His voice had grown hoarse as he talked. 

Jongup didn't know what to do. He sat on the mattress, staring dumbly at the Eeyore lamp. What a strange witness to such a story.

It sounded like something out of a movie. Jongup could picture it so clearly--Himchan mixing mop water, a sudden immense crash filling the air--he doesn't hesitate but runs outside to see, then runs toward the smoke...

Himchan would make a great silver screen hero; Jongup had always thought so. He could go from silly to badass to tearful in half a beat and make it all look good.

But those scars on his back weren't makeup. He wasn't feigning the shake in his voice and hands. 

He'd run into a fire. He'd pulled his friend out just ahead of a second explosion. The thought made Jongup's world swoop dangerously. He'd had so many high school friends enlist already, and his hyungs, of course. They all knew there was the technical possibility of danger--Jongin's unit had spent a month at the DMZ and he still didn't like to talk about it--but mostly everyone talked about it in terms of the skills they'd gained, the friends they'd made, the girls they'd missed. It had simply never occurred to Jongup when Himchan left that there was any possibility he wouldn't come back. 

His friend's _hand_ had been blown off. Himchan had saved his life. And he didn't remember. 

Jongup was in _so far_ over his head.

He was frantically cycling through possible people to call--Yongguk, Jongin, Hana, whichever of Himchan's parents would pick up the phone first. Surely there was _someone_ out there who would know what to do now. Right?

Himchan returned, glass of water and bottle of soju in hand. 

"I thought we might need something stronger," he said, sitting facing Jongup. The watchful look was back on his face again. It took Jongup a moment to realize his boyfriend was checking for any sign that he was looking at him differently now.

Was he? The idea of Himchan rushing into a situation without thinking wasn't exactly a shock, even if the situation in question kind of was. 

Jongup downed half the water and set the glass on the floor, then took a short swig of soju when Himchan passed him the bottle. He captured the older man's hand and held on. 

Himchan had told _him_ \--not Yongguk or Hana or anyone else. He'd trusted Jongup the way the dancer had always wanted him to. He wouldn't trade places with anyone for anything. 

"I'm glad you told me," he said. He hesitated, then went on. "But I think maybe you should tell someone else."

"Jongup-ah--"

"Not like Yongguk hyung or Hana, I mean--like. A doctor or something."

Himchan looked up sharply at this. 

"You think I'm crazy."

Jongup pinched him. "Don't be stupid."

"I don't need therapy."

"You don't know that," Jongup objected. "And neither do I. You don't even remember what _happened_ , and--and I saw your face when the smoke alarm went off last week. Don't tell me you're totally okay, 'cause you're not."

Himchan was scowling, but he let Jongup pull him back against him and wrap around him again. His shoulders were tense. Jongup kept a tight grip on him in case he decided to try to make a hasty exit from this conversation. He couldn't very well chase him if he did. 

"Smoke alarms," Himchan sighed finally. "are bad. Some ring tones, too."

Jongup frowned. He had a bad habit of sleeping through his alarm, so his phone was set to the loudest, blaringest sound to best penetrate his sleep. But he'd be damned if he was going to accidentally trigger Himchan now that they'd be spending nights together again. 

"Pass me my phone."

Himchan hooked it with his foot and passed it over his shoulder.

"What's your phone set to? What doesn't bother you?" he asked, opening settings. Himchan turned halfway to see him, and he was relieved to see his  expression relax into a small smile. 

"I copied Junhongie and use frogs for everything."

"Ha. Cool." He made the change quickly and tossed his phone aside. "I'm serious, hyung. I'll help you find someone to talk to if you want. I'll even go with you."

Himchan shifted and Jongup tightened his grasp again. "You don't have to do that," he muttered. "You'll be so busy again soon anyway."

"I have time now," Jongup countered. "I'll try to find someone online while you're at work tomorrow."

Himchan squinted sideways at him. "You're serious about this."

"This _is_ serious. Maybe talking to someone would make things...easier."

Himchan just sighed. They were quiet awhile, Jongup focusing on the feel of the other man's heartbeat.

"Hey." He nudged him until he turned. "I love you. And, for what it's worth, I'm proud of you."

Himchan turned further in his arms and kissed him once, chastely. "Sleep?" he suggested. Jongup nodded.

They lay down and Jongup flicked the light off, then held the glow-in-the-dark stars above their heads. The stickers glowed greenly in their plastic package. "Pretend these are on the ceiling," he said.

"It's just like being outside," Himchan said in a tone of mock awe. Jongup laughed and tossed it aside, settled in Himchan's arms. "Are you comfortable? Do you need your knee brace?"

"Nah, I'm good." He fit perfectly in the crook of the other man's arm. He traced their names on his bare chest. "Hyung?"

"Mmm."

"I'm really sorry I missed you when you called that day."

Himchan kissed his forehead. "Wasn't your fault. What could you have said, anyway?"

"Well." Good question. "Nothing, I guess. We would've just wound up listening to each other breathe for awhile," Jongup said, smiling a little. 

"Actually, that would've been perfect," Himchan conceded. "But better late than never."

*

Yongguk was pretty sure this guy wasn't human.

 Taesong's personal assistant smiled blandly at the rapper as he read the directive, passed down from on high.

(Seriously, the guy's skin looked kind of...synthetic.)

"The song's not ready yet," Yongguk objected politely. The assistant's smile didn't waver. 

(Like he'd been practicing in the mirror.)

(Or observing how humans did it. Or like the way he walked, as Youngjae had observed, _like he'd only ever had walking described for him and his technique isn't quite there yet.)_

"Our CEO understands your feelings, but requests that you move on," the assistant who surely wasn't a robot said mechanically. He put a slight emphasis on the word _requests_ , to indicate it was anything but.

Yongguk couldn't help but glower. The song wasn't done--it wasn't good enough yet. 

Yet the directive in his hand told him in no uncertain terms to carry on to the next track.

"I just want to make our music as good as it can be," Yongguk said, trying to stay calm for his new robot overlord.

(Fuck. He had to stop listening to Youngjae.)

That same inane smile. Yongguk sighed.

"Where's Manager Kang?" he asked. "Normally he tells me this kind of thing."

"Oh, I'm happy to do it," Robot-Assistant assured him, sidestepping the point neatly. It just confirmed what Yongguk had suspected--Kang was being kept away. 

They hadn't been officially reprimanded after their show of support for Himchan on twitter, but the vibe around the studio had been decidedly tense since the group's return from China. The company had moved up the release for the next album even though Jongup's condition was still up in the air. They were pushing Yongguk's songs through to the production team before they were even ready. 

So far, Yongguk was managing to bear the brunt of their company's displeasure, but they were less than a week away from official schedules starting back up again. There was no way the members wouldn't notice what was happening. It was all a little too familiar. 

Yongguk was losing control again. 

He didn't regret it; he'd never not suit up to defend one of his own, and Himchan would always be one of them. Plus, it had led to him and Jongup getting back together. The relief Yongguk felt at the news, at seeing his friends so happy after so long, eclipsed his fear of any punishment the company might dole out. 

But now the punishments were underway, and Yongguk felt himself slipping. They'd been here before. It wasn't quite as bad as before the lawsuit, but he recognized the signs. He couldn't let it happen again.

He pasted a smile on his face and nodded. Robot-Assistant seemed pacified for now, and ducked out of the room. Yongguk's smile slid off as soon as he was gone.

He'd have to talk to Daehyun soon. They needed to plan. They needed a _strategy_. They should--

There was a knock at his door. He grimaced, anticipating the assistant's return, but instead found Sleepy leaning against the doorway. 

"Hyung," he said, pleased and relieved to see his friend. The older man studied him.

"You're here awfully late for your week off," he said. Yongguk shrugged uncomfortably. 

"I have two more songs to finish," he said. Sleepy nodded.

"Yeah, I heard they pushed the deadline up on you." Yongguk shrugged again. Sleepy looked uncharacteristically serious. He came into the studio and pulled the door shut behind him. "We need to talk," he said.

*

Himchan didn't think he'd sleep, but then he was waking up, so what did he know. Jongup's arm was slung over his waist and Himchan could feel he breath on the back of his neck. 

_He's still here_ , he thought with some wonder. Jongup knew everything, now. Everything that really mattered, anyway. And somehow, he was still here. 

Himchan didn't deserve his luck, but he'd take it. 

He pulled the dancer's arm tighter around him, trying to be careful, but he felt Jongup shift behind him anyway. 

"You're 'wake," he mumbled. 

"Go back to sleep," Himchan said, smiling. "It's early." 

"Nah." Jongup snuggled closer, then made a disgruntled sound and moved so Himchan could roll onto his back. Jongup nestled into him, throwing an arm across his bare chest. He looked entirely too adorable in the dim light for Himchan to handle, and his bare top reminded him of the previous night's...activities. That had been, hands-down, the greatest shower of his life. 

Of course, after the shower had been the _talk_ , and--Himchan didn't want to think about that. Not before coffee, at least.

His phone went off. He grimaced, but Jongup snorted as the sound of frogs filled the room. Himchan groped around the floor until he found the thing. 

"Probably Kyung," he told Jongup, rolling his eyes. The dancer simply nuzzled his chest contentedly. "Hello?"

There was silence on the other end. "Hello?" Himchan tried again. His stomach dropped. _It's a reporter, why didn't you check the caller ID first you idiot?_

"Uhh--I was--calling for Jongup?" 

Himchan knew that voice. It sounded almost like Jongup's voice, which meant--shit. He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it. 

Idiot.

It was Jongup's phone. They both had black cases, but in the faint light of the room, he hadn't noticed that the one in his hand was far more battered than his own.

The younger man cracked an eye open. "Wassamatter?" he mumbled. Himchan put the phone back to his ear.

"One...second," he stammered. He held out the phone to Jongup, eyes wide. "Sorry," he whispered. "I think it's Jongin."

Jongup looked confused, then realization dawned. "Oops," he said, taking the phone.

Maybe Jongin wouldn't recognize Himchan's voice. It had been years since they'd seen each other, Himchan reasoned. He could be one of the other members for all the older Moon knew. 

"Hyung?" Jongup said sleepily into the phone. He propped himself up on one elbow. Himchan missed the pressure of his head immediately. "Umm." He scrunched his face and shrugged. "...Himchan." 

Of course Jongup wouldn't lie to his hyung. They'd been planning on telling his brothers about their relationship soon anyway. 

Still, Himchan felt awfully stupid.

"Uh huh. Um. For a couple weeks," Jongup said. Himchan could clearly hear Jongin's outraged squawk on the other end. "I was _going_ to, I just--" Jongup rolled his eyes at Himchan, listening to his brother.

Himchan worried at his lower lip. He badly wanted Jongup's brothers to accept them. He knew how much they meant to the dancer. He also knew people didn't generally like to hear they'd been kept in the dark. 

"I think so. I guess." Jongup pulled the phone away from his ear. "Are you busy tonight?"

*

It felt very odd to get ready for work like it was a normal day.  Jongup rummaged around in the kitchen while Himchan dug out something to wear from his garbage bags of belongings. 

He'd expected the previous night's conversation to turn things awkward, but Jongup had tackled him as soon as he hung up with Jongin, tickling and kissing until Himchan was a helpless giggling mess under him. Now, with the scent of coffee wafting down the hall, Himchan felt nothing so much as safe and very well cared-for.

" _Hyung, are you hungry?"_ Jongup called. 

"Nah, I'll get something later!" Himchan called back, attempting to pull his socks on and hop down the hall simultaneously. He wound up on his ass in the middle of the living room, sock hanging off his big toe. "Ow."

"Very graceful," Yongguk observed, kicking the front door shut behind him. 

"Whatever," Himchan grumbled, pulling his sock on properly. "How was your night?" He squinted at his friend, noting the familiar circles under his eyes. There was something more, though, some strange restless energy. Yongguk couldn't seem to stop himself fidgeting, when normally he had an enviable stillness. "How many Red Bulls did you _drink?_ "

"What? None. Well, three," Yongguk said. He kept playing with the zipper on his jacket. "Is Jonguppie still here?"

"Kitchen. Making coffee but I don't think you should have any."

Yongguk gave a short laugh. It sounded odd. "How was _your_ night?" he said before Himchan could continue his interrogation. His eyes narrowed. "Are you okay?" he added.

Himchan wondered if he looked as unsettled to Yongguk as his friend looked to him. 

"Sure," he said. 

They might have gone on staring at each other suspiciously, but Jongup came out of the kitchen, carefully holding two mugs. Himchan smiled at the sight; two of his favorite things on the planet, Jongup and coffee, together at last. Yongguk made as if to rush the dancer.

"Where are your crutches?" he yelped. _Yelped_. Himchan gave him another look. There was definitely something weird about him this morning.

Himchan let Jongup explain the whole physical therapy update, taking one of the proffered mugs and guiding his boyfriend to sit on the arm of the couch. 

"That's so great, Jongup-ah," Yongguk said. He was shuffling his feet like a little kid. No, scratch that--like a _guilty_ little kid. 

"Hyung, did you want coffee? I can get another cu--" Jongup began, trying to hold out his mug to the rapper. Himchan caught his wrist gently and shook his head at him. 

"What are you guys doing today?" Yongguk asked. 

"Well, I thought I'd go to work," Himchan said. Yongguk nodded seriously, missing his tone. 

"Right. Good; that's a good idea."

Jongup and Himchan exchanged a glance. Jongup's eyebrow twitched. Himchan shrugged and turned back to Yongguk. 

"And then I guess we're having dinner with Jonguppie's hyungs." He felt a rush of nerves at the prospect, but also a certain peace. They were moving _forward_. There was no one he'd rather walk with into uncharted territory. 

"Oh," Yongguk said vaguely. "I--okay. What time will you be done?"

They stared at him, nonplussed. 

"Well, we don't know yet," Himchan told him patiently. Yongguk nodded again and he rolled his eyes. "Bbang, are you okay?"

The question seemed to wake him up a little and he smiled self-consciously. "Yeah, I'm--just tired I guess," he said quickly. Himchan wondered if he knew what a bad liar he was, or if he'd merely forgotten Himchan could read him like a sheet of music. "You two had a good night, though?"

Himchan hesitated, trying to calculate the average of _fucking amazing_ from the shower part of the evening and _difficult as hell_ from the rest. Jongup's hand found his knee and squeezed it. 

"We did," he said calmly.

"D'you think you could stay over again tonight?" Yongguk asked the dancer. Jongup blinked.

"Um--"

"Bbang, that's supposed to be _my_ line," Himchan said.  Yongguk rolled his eyes. 

"Just--we'll all have a drink when you get back," he said. "Please."

"Sure, hyung," Jongup said with a shrug. He glanced up at Himchan. "I was going to, anyway."

 

 

So there was that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure this goes without saying, but I'm flying blind on all things related to the Korean military. I hope I'm not TOO ridiculous.


	15. Chapter 15

Jongin cinched his tie around his neck, nodding briskly at his reflection. He looked good. Polished, adult, and more than capable of kicking some ex-idol ass if it came to that.

He heard the front door open and the whistle that heralded Jonghwan's arrival. 

"Out in a sec!" he called back. Thank goodness his roommates were both gone for the weekend. This dinner was going to be strange enough without worrying about witnesses interrupting it. 

(He'd made the mistake of mentioning this to Jonghwan when he'd woken him up with the news that morning. 

 _Witnesses--you planning a murder before dessert, hyung_? his middle brother had asked in his mild way.)

He ducked out of his bedroom and found his brother unloading several bottles of soju and wine onto the kitchen counter. 

"Thanks for getting all that," he said. Jonghwan turned and his eyes found Jongin's tie.

"Expecting the Queen later?"

"It wouldn't hurt _you_ to put a little effort in," Jongin chided, taking in Jonghwan's usual jeans and t-shirt. 

"It's _Jonguppie_."

" _And_ his--boyfriend." Okay, that felt very weird to say out loud. Jonghwan narrowed his eyes. 

"Don't tell me you're still freaking out."

"It's only been since this morning!" Jongin protested. Sure, in a perfect world everyone could be as calm about everything as Moon Jonghwan, but a perfect world was decidedly not where Jongin was living. 

Jonghwan blew a raspberry in his general direction. "Crap. You've been freaking since Jongup told us about them weeks ago. Weeks and _weeks_ ago."

"I have not."

(He had.)

Jonghwan just arched an eyebrow in the grand tradition of their mother, and waited. 

"I just," Jongin said. "I just have some questions."

His brother waved a hand in an elaborate gesture of _Go onnnnn._

"I just want to make sure they've thought all this through. I mean, Jongup was so upset when he was at your place, and what? Now everything's fine? Plus, you know. Himchan's so..."

Jonghwan's right eyebrow lifted to meet the left. 

"Old," Jongin finished.

"Younger than you."

"Not by much. And Jonguppie's a _baby_."

"He really isn't. But you should try treating him like one; that'll go over well."

Jongin scowled. "Can you get in my corner on this? Please?"

Jonghwan squinted. "What's really going on in your corner?"

"It's not that he's a guy."

(Okay, that maybe sounded a little defensive.)

Jonghwan's right eyebrow lowered to leave the left one alone in its salute. "You sure about that?"

Jongin thought about it. 

He actually _was_ pretty sure his own complicated feelings over the matter weren't because Himchan was a guy. The idea didn't make him feel disgust or anything--he couldn't feel that way about Jongup if he tried. His youngest brother would always be beloved beyond reproach.

So, no. What he felt was something more like... _awe_. The story Jongup had told them about his relationship with Himchan didn't feel unbelievable to Jongin because they were both guys, or even because Himchan was so much older. 

It was the whole crazy star-crossed lovers thing. The way the story felt like a _story_ , the way his baby brother had apparently found capital-L Love long before Jongin himself ever had. _Jongup_ , of all people. When Jongin thought of his younger brother, images of blanket forts and burping contests and video game marathons filled his mind. Not True Love and Heartbreak and everything in between.

Jongup had never been one for crushes. He'd never really seemed interested in _anyone_ that way, and for him to have chosen Kim Himchan of all people...

Jonghwan was watching him. "I like Himchan," he said, as if reading his mind. "He's nice. And he was the only person who could get Jonguppie out of the house during the lawsuit. He made him smile. When he went to America for a few months, Uppie was depressed all over again, remember?"

Jongin was embarrassed to find he didn't. Apparently he had missed some of the signs by not living with his brothers in their parents' house at the time.

"I don't have anything against Himchan. He's very..." He groped for words. In truth, Himchan had always been his favorite or Jongup's friends. He knew how to strike just the right balance, able to be over-the-top silly with the younger members one minute and knowledgable enough to match Yongguk the next. And Jongin wouldn't forget that he'd protected Jongup when he had to.

But maybe that was just it--as long as Jongup was with Himchan, he _needed_ protection. The times might be a-changin', but not so quickly that the couple could really live in the open. And how could he want his brother to have to hide for the rest of his life?

"I just don't see what kind of future they have," he said finally. "What happens if they get caught again? What'll they do when Jonguppie has to enlist?"

"Lots of couples last through enlistment. They've already done it once." 

Jongin threw up his hands. Obviously, Jonghwan would be no help. 

"If I'm the only one who's thinking clearly--"

His brother made a frustrated noise and pulled out his phone. "Just--"

"What are you doing?"

He didn't answer for a moment, tapping quickly at his screen. Finally, he handed his phone over. "Just look, okay?"

He'd pulled up an old B.A.P interview. Jongin hadn't seen it. He'd tried to watch everything in the first year after the group's debut, overcome with pride in his youngest brother. But there was so _much_ that, in time, he stopped trying to keep up. Jongup never seemed to care, anyway. 

Jonghwan wandered around the kitchen in search of snacks while Jongin watched the interview. He thought it was from shortly after the lawsuit was settled; Jongup's hair was a silvery blonde. 

And, okay, fine. So there was the way Himchan's face seemed to hook Jongup's gaze so he couldn't look away. There was the way Himchan kept passing Jongup the mic to encourage him to speak. There was the way Jongup crowded close against Himchan's shoulder, the way everything he said made Himchan laugh, the way they seemed to be watching each other in the monitor.

"I mean, it's cute," he said grudgingly. Jonghwan was eating his roommate's chips. Jongin was going to have to replace those.

"They're like that in all the interviews, even before they got together," Jonghwan said. "I watched some stuff after he told us about them."

Jongin passed the phone back. "What's your point?"

"My point is, it's serious and it's been going on forever, and you lecturing them will only piss them off."

"I don't lecture," Jongin protested weakly. His brother smiled politely. "Oh, shut up."

*

Himchan's collar was too tight. Worse, it was wet. He felt gross and sweaty after lessons, and in trying to clean himself up, he'd doused his shirt. Plus his hair was all disheveled now and he'd forgotten to bring a comb and _ugh_. 

Normally he wouldn't care, but he'd had an extra session with Sleepy's protege Jin after his usual lessons, and now he didn't have time to go home and shower before meeting Jongup to get dinner with his hyungs. 

Probably the terrible, horror movie lighting of the school bathroom was at least partly responsible for the dark circles under his eyes and the way he looked like he would take a side of brains with his dinner, thank you very much. Himchan glared at himself in the mirror.

"My mother always said if you hold one expression too long your face'll stick that way."

He turned with a start to find Jongup in the doorway. He looked...fuck. 

He looked _amazing._

He had his hair raked to one side in a manner both messy and hot. He had on a long-sleeved green shirt and ripped jeans and--

"The cane looks good on you," Himchan said. His boyfriend smirked and twirled his new toy. 

"Daehyun hyung said it makes me look _dapper_ ," he said. Himchan laughed and leaned against the sink, surveying the dancer. 

"If anyone could pull off dapper in those jeans, it's you," he said. Jongup stopped twirling the cane and pulled a face.

"I feel old when I actually use it," he admitted, approaching Himchan. "See?"

Himchan couldn't take his eyes off his face. "No," he said. "I didn't think you'd get one so soon. Is there a sword inside?"

Jongup smiled as he reached him. He rested his hands on the sink, caging Himchan in his arms. 

"I guess the company wanted me to get it as soon as possible," he said with a shrug. "So, no sword. Anyway. What's with the face?" he asked. Himchan remembered, sighed. 

"I'm just gonna look like a mess to see your hyungs," he said. "I brought a tie but it looks stupid--" He motioned to the strip of fabric he'd slung over the crooked edge of the mirror. Jongup laughed. 

"We're going over to Jongin hyung's apartment, what do you need a tie for?"

"I want to make a good impression."

"They already know you. You can act normal. It'll be fine, I swear."

Himchan pulled at his collar to show Jongup the wet splotches. "This isn't fine!" he said, horrified. Well, kind of horrified. Kind of horrified and not at all trying to make Jongup laugh, which meant he was very put-out and not-pleased when Jongup _did_ laugh, even if a laughing Moon Jongup was his favorite sight/sound combination in the world. 

"I brought you a clean shirt anyway," Jongup said, unslinging the backpack Himchan hadn't even noticed him wearing. 

"Jongup!" Himchan stared in wonder as a fresh blue sweater materialized before him. 

"Yup."

"This is--"

"I know."

"You're just--"

"I really am. Now get dressed."

*

Himchan was nervous, but Jongup wasn't. 

Well. He wasn't _not_ -nervous. Jongin on the phone that morning had been...strident. But--not to brag or anything--Jongup knew how to handle his hyung. Jongin's overprotective streak put even Himchan's to shame, but Jongup had years of experience manipulating his brother to get his own way. It would be fine.

They walked from the car to Jongin's building. Himchan was too quiet. 

"I think I found someone," Jongup spoke up. 

"Hm? What?"

"A doctor," he clarified. "Specializes in...in trauma, PTSD, that kind of thing. She's pretty close; we could set up an appointment if you want."

They stopped at the door but Jongup didn't press the buzzer. Himchan was frowning down at his feet. 

"You still want to come with me?" he asked. 

"Yeah. If you want, then yeah, I do." It had felt good to look up doctors that afternoon. He just hoped his boyfriend wouldn't push aside his offer of help. 

"Okay." Himchan met his eyes and smiled. "Thanks, Jonguppie." 

Jongup pressed the bell and a moment later, his brother buzzed them inside. 

"Here we go," he said.

*

Jongin could see Jongup wanting to give him shit for his tie. He glared at his younger brother, who smiled back sunnily. Unfair. No one could be annoyed with someone who smiled like that.

"Come in," he said, ushering them inside. "Himchan, good to see you."

"You too, Jongin-ssi. Hi, Jonghwan." Himchan's slightly shy smile broadened as Jonghwan greeted him with one of his impromptu handshake/high five maneuvers. Most people were a bit nonplussed when he pulled this move, but Himchan didn't seem fazed. Well, he _was_ used to Jongup; Jonghwan's eccentricities must seem familiar.

"No more crutches?" Jongin asked his youngest brother, eyeing his cane. 

"Returned to the fiery chasm from whence they came," Jongup said promptly. 

"Nice," Jonghwan said. "You guys want a drink?"

*

They settled around the low table outside the kitchen. Jongin eyed the careful way Himchan propped Jongup's pillows so he'd be comfortable; the way Jongup took a sip of Himchan's wine before passing his glass over.

"Nesquik," he muttered, and Himchan laughed, punching his shoulder playfully.

Jongin forced himself to stop staring and took a sip of his own wine. He found Jonghwan shaking his head at him.

"So," he said. Jongup and Himchan looked at him. Himchan shifted slightly so he wasn't touching Jongup. Jongup shifted slightly so he was.

"Jonguppie said you're teaching, hyung," Jonghwan spoke up. Himchan's focus shifted to the middle brother and Jongin saw his shoulders relax a bit as he answered the question. Jongin tried to listen, but it was hard with Jongup glaring at him the way he was. 

Jeez. He hadn't even _said_ anything yet.

He forced himself to listen. It helped that Himchan was obviously excited about his work; his enthusiasm made him effusive, and drew Jongup's attention. Just as he had in the interview, he stared at Himchan as he talked, and either the older man didn't notice, or he was so used to it he didn't need to react. 

Just as in the video, there was something intent and fiercely fond in Jongup's expression.

This was going to be harder than Jongin thought.

From the orchestra, conversation moved onto B.A.P's upcoming schedules, and he saw his chance.

"I'm sure it'll be hard on you guys once Jonguppie's back to work," he said. "Have you thought how you'll deal with that?"

Jonghwan was shaking his head again. Jongin ignored him. It was a perfectly friendly, casual question. 

His brother and Himchan exchanged a glance. 

"I'm hoping it'll be easier since I moved in with Yongguk," Himchan said. This was news to Jongin. 

"I'll be over any time I'm not in the studio," Jongup said, clearly talking to his boyfriend and not his brother. If it was possible for someone's eyes to go heart-shaped, Himchan's did now as he smiled at him.

"Yongguk doesn't mind? This?" Jongin couldn't help asking. He probably knew the rapper the least of all the members, but he couldn't imagine him being comfortable with their relationship. He seemed to think of the younger members as his own children. 

Jongup turned his glower back on him, but Himchan laughed. 

"I think he's almost as happy about it as we are," he said. He saw Jongin's questioning look. "I'm high-maintenance," he explained. "Yongguk's lucky my care and feeding are in Jonguppie's hands now."

"Pabo," Jongup muttered, but he was smiling again. Himchan just beamed at him. 

"Speaking of feeding," Jonghwan interjected, pulling out a heap of take-out menus with a flourish. "We wouldn't subject you to Jongin hyung's cooking, so--"

"Using the term _cooking_ loosely, I see," Jongup muttered. Jongin saw Himchan pinch him. His brother retaliated in kind and Himchan didn't quite hide his grin. 

Jongin couldn't hold back a sharp sigh as he pushed himself to his feet. He grabbed the empty wine bottle, going to the kitchen to get another, along with waters. 

He stood at the sink a moment, hydrating and listening to the other men joke over menus. 

"Hyung."

He turned to find Jongup leaning in the doorway. His expression was stony, an odd look for him. 

"You should drink some water," Jongin said, holding out a bottle. His brother ignored it. 

"You shouldn't have asked us here if you couldn't handle it."

"Handle what?"

Jongup rolled his eyes. "This. Us. I wouldn't have brought him here if I knew you were gonna be like this." Jongin opened his mouth but Jongup beat him to it. "And don't say _be like what_. You know what you're doing."

Jongin rested his hip against the counter, studying his younger brother. Jongup didn't seem so young, suddenly. 

"I want you to be happy," he told him quietly. Jongup tilted his head.

"I don't think you do," he said finally. Jongin went to object, but Jongup shook his head, looking thoughtful. "I think you want me to be _safe_. That's not always the same thing."

This was hard to argue with. "I want both," Jongin said at last. "But if I had to pick just one...Jonguppie, what happens if you two get caught again? Have you really thought about what would happen to you? Your career? The press, I mean hell, they'd be all over it."

The thought of reporters hounding his brother for details about his personal life made Jongin want badly to hit something. 

Jongup glanced behind him at the living room. Jongin shifted so he could see Himchan and Jonghwan, sitting side-by-side now, poring over a menu. Himchan pointed and said something and Jonghwan ducked his head, laughing. 

"Of course I've thought about it," Jongup said quietly. "I used to think that'd be the worst that could happen, you know? The end of everything." He shook his head. "But it's not. The worst already happened, and we're still here."

Jongin sighed. "Fair enough. But Jonguppie...what about Eomma and Appa? And all your friends? You shouldn't have to keep something this big a secret forever, and if that's the only way to be safe..."

"Himchan told his mother about us. Before." Jongup's voice was low. He was staring fixedly at the floor. 

"Really?" Jongin said. "How did that g--"

"It was horrible and they wound up not speaking the whole time he was gone." He looked up and met Jongin's stare squarely. Jongin tried to think what to say. 

"That's awful," he said finally. "And...I mean, it doesn't really make me feel better." 

"She might be coming around," Jongup said. "Maybe. Maybe she could."

Jongin's heart clenched at the look on his brother's face. "And if she can't?" he asked a bit gingerly. Jongup glanced back at Himchan again. 

"I don't know," he said. "But...I think I could live with secrets easier than I could live an actual lie, you know?"

Jongin considered this. Considered the alternative to his brother being with the one person he wanted to be with. Considered the chasm between the miserable lump Jongup had been a month ago and the person in front of him now. 

Maybe, sometimes, being happy really was more important than being safe.

"Drink some water, Jonguppie," he said. "We need to get back out there; I'm being a terrible host."

"No, you _were_ being a terrible host," Jongup corrected. "Now you're just slow."

Jongin held up two fingers in pincer. "If you think I won't fight a kid with a cane..."

*

Jongin felt better when they returned to the other room with more wine and bottles of water to share. Jongup settled snugly against his boyfriend's side. The older man smiled at him, and Jongin felt his veil of protectiveness stretch to fall over Himchan, too. He could never disapprove of someone who looked at Jongup like that.

"We ordered chicken and it's going to be amazing," Jonghwan said. 

He was right.

*

It went...fine, actually. Himchan was still surprised. There had been a definite tension coming from the eldest Moon when they entered the apartment, and it didn't take any special perception to see he was dying to begin interrogating them. To begin interrogating _Himchan_. 

But then Jongup had followed him into the kitchen and when they emerged ten minutes later, the tension was gone. For the rest of the evening, Jongin was everything Himchan remembered him being: gracious, good-humored, chatty. Jongwhan had been right.

 _Don't worry about him,_ he'd said after Jongup went after Jongin into the kitchen. _He's spazzing a little but he'll get over it. We already know you'd do anything for Jonguppie, and that's really all he cares about._

"What'd you say to him?" he asked Jongup as they drove back to the apartment. Himchan was glad he'd had the foresight to swap water for wine an hour ago; Jonghwan had a heavy pour. 

Jongup didn't ask who he meant. "Just stuff," he said vaguely. 

"Jonguppie..."

"Just--he's worried what'll happen if we get caught again. And what we'll do when I have to enlist. And our whole future, basically."

"So just a few minor details."

"Right." Jongup smiled down at his hands. 

Himchan's stomach was clenching again. "We haven't talked about that, though, not really."

"What?"

"Any of that. Future stuff." There had been so much _past_ stuff to wade through that it only felt like they were just now really in the present. Future plans of the kind Jongin was worried about were awfully daunting. 

Jongup was quiet in the way he got when he was thinking. Himchan let him. 

"Yongguk hyung's enlisting soon."

 _Twist,_ went Himchan's stomach. He wasn't ready to say goodbye to his best friend again yet. 

"I know."

"Maybe. If you want. Maybe I could move in with you when he does. For real."

The twist went from sharp to very, very pleasant. "Yeah?"

"We'd both still be busy, but. It'd be something?"

"It'd be a lot," Himchan corrected. He pictured it, cooking in an empty apartment, falling asleep on the couch only to be woken by Jongup late at night. He'd sit with him while he ate and told him about his day. They'd go to bed together every damn night. 

"We'll be careful," Jongup said. "And if someone found out someday...well, it's not the worst thing I can think of."

Himchan spared a glance at him, but Jongup was looking out his window and he couldn't make out his expression. 

"When you enlist," he said. His voice was strained. "I mean. It'll be awful and I'll miss you. But we can write, and there are phone privileges and you'll have furloughs and stuff." He saw Jongup's head swivel to him out of the corner of his eye. He made himself focus on the road. "Just--if you want. I'll wait for you, obviously."

"You'd _better_ ," Jongup said sharply, but Himchan could hear he was smiling a little all the same. 

"Okay, then."

"Okay, then."

*

There was no one with them in the elevator so Jongup leaned into Himchan, felt his arm wrap around his middle. It was nice. Using a cane was considerably more exhausting than his crutches had been. 

They made their slow way down the hall to the apartment. Jongup was already daydreaming of Himchan's bed. With Himchan in it. Without all these pesky clothes. 

But when they went inside, the place was full. 

"Hyungs!" Junhong bellowed from his perch on the back of Yongguk's chair. If the rapper moved, the whole thing would topple over backwards. Daehyun and Youngjae were sprawled on the couch, and--

"Sleepy hyung!" Jongup greeted the older rapper in surprise. Himchan's arm slid away from his middle, careful not to throw him off balance. Jongup saw Sleepy's eyes track the movement. Then he was smiling in his usual lazy way, rising to greet them. 

"C'mon, kid, sit, you look about ready to collapse," he told Jongup, motioning to his vacated seat. For once, Jongup didn't protest. His knee ached, throbbing in time with his heartbeat.

"How was dinner?" Yongguk asked. 

"Fine," Himchan said quickly, casting a glance at Sleepy. "What's up, guys?" He ruffled Daehyun's hair and the singer ducked away, making a noise like an angry cat, more cute than threatening. 

"Sit," Sleepy said, slinging an arm across his shoulders. "You guys want a drink?"

The coffee table was littered with empty bottles and glasses. Jongup shook his head.

"Better not," Himchan said. He sat on the arm of the couch and the singers made room for Sleepy beside them. "What'd we miss?"

"Nothing yet," Sleepy said cryptically, casting a significant look at Yongguk. The leader sat up a bit straighter. 

"We wanted to talk to you guys, now you're all here. About the future," he said. 

 _There's a lot of that going around_ , Jongup thought. He met Himchan's eyes and could see his boyfriend was thinking the same thing. The older man shifted, clearly uncomfortable, and glanced down the hall towards his room.

"I can just let you guys--" he began, pointing with a thumb toward his escape route. But Yongguk shook his head.

"Stay," he said. "Please."

He stayed.

Sleepy spoke first. "You guys know my contract's up next month. Decided I'm not re-upping this time." 

The group made various sounds of worry and disappointment and Jongup's stomach fell. TS had been gradually petering off on Untouchable's activities in the past year or so. He couldn't blame Sleepy for wanting out; there wasn't much allure to being kept in the basement. But the rapper was such a fixture in the company. It wouldn't be the same without him. 

"What you probably don't know is--I'm starting my own company."

Five heads jerked up at this news, and then the room broke into excited chatter. 

"Hyung, that's amazing!"

"This is so cool, how did you--"

"You're gonna be the _boss_ , that's awesome!"

"Let him talk," Yongguk said, not raising his voice in the slightest. The younger men went silent immediately. Sleepy laughed a little.

"Yeah. Should be cool. I've got some backers who are excited. _I'm_ excited." He said this in his usual mellow way, the voice of someone with only elementary knowledge of the idea of _excitement_. Jongup was tempted to laugh. "I want to do things differently, you know? Put more control in the hands of the artists. Let them do their thing, be a little more out there, try new stuff. Not write off talent because it's _different_." He looked at Himchan and Jongup guessed the rapper was thinking of his boyfriend's new student. Himchan had been raving about Jin ever since their first lesson. 

 _She's undisciplined, okay, but just in terms of raw talent? She's already done some_ amazing _stuff._

He'd been excited all night, playing around with the composing software Yongguk used, planning future lessons, while Jongup lay on the couch behind him and pulled his hair into a series of tiny ponytails. He liked Teacher Himchan very much. 

The others were rumbling with excitement again, all except for Yongguk, who was very still save for his eyes, which flickered from member to member. 

"Part of my plan," Sleepy went on, "is sniping B.A.P from TS when your contract's up."

The room went silent.

Jongup looked at Yongguk, dumbfounded, and saw that Sleepy's news hadn't surprised him. The leader's face was a careful blank as he gauged the others' reactions. So this was what had had him so wound up that morning. 

"Hyung, are you serious?" Daehyun broke the silence. Sleepy cocked an eyebrow.

"What do you think?"

" _Let's--_ have all the details first," Yongguk interrupted before the others could speak. Jongup could see Daehyun was practically vibrating with excitement, while Junhong's eyes kept flickering between the two older rappers. Youngjae was chewing a nail and rocking very slightly beside Daehyun. 

"What details?" Daehyun said. "Why is this even a discussion? This would solve everything, we wouldn't have to worry abou--" He stopped speaking and sat back in his seat. 

"Worry about what?" Youngjae said. 

"Nothing," Daehyun said, too quickly. Jongup didn't miss the way he glanced at Yongguk, and neither did Youngjae, who turned on the leader.

"Worry about what?" he repeated. "What's going on?"

Yongguk sighed. "Things are getting a little...strained...with the company," he said carefully. "They moved up the next album again, and they've been taking some of the control back musically; they aren't letting me have as much of a say as usual."

The others frowned. "You didn't tell us that," Junhong said quietly. 

"Didn't want to worry you."

"How long has this been going on?" Youngjae pressed. 

"Couple weeks."

A couple weeks. Jongup didn't exactly have to stretch his memory to fill in what the group had done a couple weeks ago that might have pissed off their company. 

Himchan got there at the same time. "This is about you guys tweeting that article." His voice came out sharp, almost accusing. Yongguk pursed his lips.

"It doesn't matter why it started."

"It matters that you didn't tell us, though," Junhong said, nudging Yongguk's shoulder with his knee. The rapper sighed again.

"I was hoping I was imagining things."

"But so--what? If we don't leave, things'll go back to the way they were before the lawsuit?" Youngjae said. 

"Our contracts would never let it go that far. It would be different this time," Yongguk said.

"But still bad, right? So--why _is_ there even a question? Of course we'd go with Sleepy hyung."

"There's some stuff for you to consider first," Sleepy said. "Don't get me wrong, I want you guys. But I don't have the kind of budget you're used to working with. Those big MV's you make every year or so? Not happening with me, or at least not for awhile. You come with me and you'll all have to be a lot more hands-on--I've got some producers, but nothing like the team you're used to. You'd need to get a lot more involved writing and producing your own stuff. You've got a good start 'cause Bbang already knows his shit and you've all been working on your own songs for years now, but this time you'd really be flying without a net."

Jongup could see this strike a chord. Youngjae and Daehyun exchanged a glance. Junhong was frowning slightly. Jongup didn't even know what his own face was doing. Himchan was watching him. He gave him a small shrug.

"There's also the matter of the fans," Yongguk said reluctantly. "I know they're mostly not crazy about TS, so that could help. But..."

"But any big change like this is gonna cost you," Sleepy finished. "We probably won't be booking the biggest venues, not in the beginning. Won't be able to send you on those massive tours like you're used to, either."

Jongup felt a small, selfish rush of relief at the idea. He'd always loved touring; he never felt quite so alive as he did onstage. But he was already attached to the idea of coming home to Himchan at the end of the day. The world tours TS sent the group on would take him away from Korea for months at a time. Imagining spending so long apart made him ache.

As if sensing his thoughts, the older man glanced at him. Jongup wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

"So there's risk," Sleepy said. "Hell. Whole thing might blow up in our faces and finish all our careers."

"Way to sell it, hyung," Youngjae commented. The rapper smiled. 

" _But_. If you do decide to come, you'll have more creative control than you've  ever had. If you want to do subunits, you can; if you want to put out a random single, that's cool. You'll have control when you start enlisting."

Everyone glanced at Yongguk. This, Jongup thought, might be the biggest draw of all. None of them liked to talk about it, but anxiety had been building as they neared the day their leader would have to leave. Jongup knew he'd feel better with Sleepy at the helm than waiting to find out what TS had planned for the rest of them.

"I still say yes," Youngjae said quickly. 

"The fans, though..." Daehyun shifted uncomfortably, clearly torn. "We have so many more international Babyz; it would be hard not to get to do tours for them."

"We could make whatever kind of music we wanted, though," Junhong spoke up. His face was brightening. Jongup wasn't surprised; his best friend's tastes were broad and sometimes a bit off-kilter. To go with Sleepy would be like taking him off the leash. 

"We'll take a vote," Yongguk said. "We're not doing it unless everyone agrees."

"So let's vote," Youngjae said promptly.

"Not so fast, Jae. There's one other thing," Sleepy said. "Part of my plan for B.A.P is bringing you on as a _six_ -man group."

Jongup's brain stuttered for a beat before he caught the rapper's meaning. Then his heart started working double-time. The room had gone very still, six pairs of eyes landing on Himchan. His boyfriend looked stunned.

"Oh," he said, finally. "...Oh."

"We can do that?" Junhong said.

"My company," Sleepy said with a shrug. "What do you say, Channie? You can do your own composing and everything. You actually gave me the idea in the first place, years back."

"Oh," Himchan said again. He looked at Jongup, but for once the dancer couldn't read him. He just seemed shocked. Jongup wondered if the hope showed on his face. This could be _everything_. Himchan would be back by his side all the time, making music and performing, the way he was supposed to. 

Even as he thought this, though, some quiet internal voice reminded Jongup of Teacher Himchan, so confident and enthusiastic and all about the music. There wasn't just one way for Himchan to be happy.

Jongup glanced around at the others. Yongguk looked as hopeful as he felt. Youngjae was chewing on his lower lip. Daehyun still looked conflicted, but he gave a forceful nod when Himchan looked his way. Junhong was smiling. 

"Himchannie?" Yongguk spoke first. 

Himchan looked around at all of them, his handsome face still pale and stunned. Jongup wondered exactly how disturbed Sleepy would be if he pulled his boyfriend into a hug right now. Probably not very, or maybe Jongup's imagination just didn't have sufficient stretch for him to picture the rapper being freaked out by anything. 

Himchan stood, his movements stiff and jerky. 

"I could use some air if that's okay," he murmured hoarsely. He went to the porch and slid the door shut behind him. Jongup could just make out the shape of him in the dark against the line of the city. 

"Is that the reaction you were expecting?" Youngjae asked after a brief pause. 

"Shut up, Jae," Jongup snapped before he could stop himself. "He's allowed to think about it." 

His friend looked injured. "I didn't say he wasn't," he said. "I just--what is there to think about? Isn't this what he's been wanting?"

Jongup realized with a start that he didn't know. He talked to him about the group all the time, Himchan asked about it and gave his opinion and had even started listening to the albums he'd missed. But he hadn't expressed any real longing for that life. He'd missed Jongup and the others, clearly, and music. But on the subject of being an idol, he'd been totally quiet. Jongup didn't know if that was because he truly didn't miss it, or if it was something he considered so far out of reach that there was no point in discussing it. 

Yongguk heaved himself to his feet and held out a hand to Jongup.

"Let's find out," he said.

*

It was cold enough to hurt Himchan's chest, which was how he knew he was still breathing. So that was something. 

He heard the _fzzzz_ of the door sliding open behind him, and then Yongguk and Jongup were there, pressing in on either side. They were quiet for a time. 

"This is a nice view," Himchan said finally. It wasn't especially panoramic; they were too much in the middle of things to see anything but the neighboring buildings. But Himchan liked the little pockets of light that were the other windows, those small glimpses into other people's lives: the janitor emptying waste baskets in the office building here, the glint and flicker of a tv set in another apartment there. So many tiny worlds so close to each other, each with their own worries and hopes and problems. This one decision, this one _moment_ , didn't need to define everything. 

He breathed. Jongup took his hand.

"I didn't mean to blindside you," Yongguk said. "Sleepy told me what he wanted, and I just...I dunno. I wanted us all together to hear it. Maybe that was dumb."

Himchan just shook his head, bringing Jongup's hand to his lips. 

"Himchannie?"

"How can I just--come back."

"You just do it. You'll be with us. The six of us; that's how it's supposed to be, remember?" Yongguk's shoulder nudged his, but Himchan didn't look over. 

He couldn't ignore the longing the idea gave him. It was almost the same way he'd felt looking at Jongup. He'd loved being an idol. He loved being onstage, and he missed it. There was nothing quite like it.

"What if I can't do it," Himchan muttered. Because this longing was laced through with dread. "What if I can't perform without getting into all that-- _shit_ \--again."

He'd lost everything once over the pills, over his own nagging insecurities. They were unavoidable when you were in the spotlight. Letting go of those, letting go of being _the visual_ , was probably the best thing to have come out of the past two years. His mind finally felt right. Going back felt like a dangerous path. 

"We won't let you," Jongup said quietly. "And you're different now."

"You don't know that."

Jongup tightened his grip. "I do," he said simply. 

There came a second _fzzzz_ as the sliding door opened again. 

"God, it's _freezing_ ," Daehyun complained. 

"Oh, come here you big baby," Youngjae said, and Himchan turned to find the singers locked in an aggressive kind of hug. Junhong sidled around them and pushed between Yongguk and Himchan, linking arms with both of his hyungs. 

"It is cold," he said agreeably, pressing his back against the balcony wall and scooting his legs out in front of him until he was the same height as the others. He rested his head on Himchan's shoulder briefly. "You okay, hyung?"

"Just thinking," Himchan said, smiling at him. Yongguk reached out to zip the maknae's hoodie all the way. Jongup leaned into Himchan's other side and he slipped his arm around him. 

Daehyun and Youngjae had reached a truce, which involved Youngjae standing behind the older boy with his arms around his neck in a strangling embrace. Daehyun's arms were crossed, cupping his own elbows and shivering, accepting Youngjae's position to share in his body heat.

"We know you need to think," he said. "But we didn't want you thinking we didn't want you to come back, because we do."

Himchan studied the singer, who looked solemnly back. 

"You do, huh," he mused. 

"Of course we do," Junhong said, and Youngjae nodded. 

"Especially if we aren't going to have the composer hyungs anymore. We _need_ you, hyung."

Nerves began to crowd in with the longing and the dread and oh good grief, he was just a mess. 

"You don't _have_ to, though," Jongup added hastily. "If you really don't want to."

"I didn't mean he _has to_ , I'm just saying--"

Himchan tried to tune out his friends' bickering. He glanced over Junhong's head at Yongguk. Bbang looked back at him for a beat, then cleared his throat. 

"Okay, let's give him some space to actually think, yeah?" the rapper said, cutting through the squabbles. The others quieted. "I mean, you don't have to decide tonight, Himchan-ah."

But Himchan shook his head. This was going to be a shot in the dark whenever he decided. He didn't want to leave the others hanging. Whatever they decided tonight would determine how the group proceeded with TS's displeasure hanging over them. 

"Just--give me a couple minutes?" he said. Yongguk nodded. The others filed back inside, except for Jongup. Himchan could make out Sleepy inside, tapping calmly at his phone. Yongguk turned back in the doorway. 

"Just think about what you want," he said. "Jongup's right; you don't _have_ to. I know how much you like teaching." 

Himchan's heart gave a lurch. He didn't want to think about losing the orchestra. Seulki and Hyunjoo--collaborating with Mina--he supposed he could keep working with Jin if he went with Sleepy, but--

But.

But.

He nodded stiffly at Yongguk and his friend left the two of them alone. Himchan turned back to look at the city, trying to grasp some of that sweet _perspective_ thing he'd been hearing so much about.

"At some point, life is gonna get simple, right?" he said. Jongup laughed silently. 

"Any day now."

*

Yongguk tried not to fidget. This wasn't normally a problem, but ever since Sleepy had introduced his scheme the night before, Yongguk had felt ready to crawl out of his skin. 

Or, more to the point--out of his life, and into a better one. One that would fit his whole family, and keep them safe while Yongguk was away. It had seemed so simple, but faced with Himchan's anxious self-awareness, the rapper was left wondering if he was being selfish. His best friend had made it out of this life intact, and stronger for everything he'd been through. Was it unfair of Yongguk to ask him to come back?

As if sensing his distress, Junhong sat on him. The maknae patted his hand. 

"It'll be okay, hyung," he said. 

"Thanks, Junhongie," Yongguk wheezed. Oxygen was overrated.

The porch door slid open and Himchan and Jongup slipped inside. Their noses were pink from the cold, their expressions unreadable. 

"Let's vote," Himchan said.

*

They did it the same way they did before the lawsuit: scraps of paper passed around. Two choices, yes or no. Answers written and piled in the middle of the table. 

Yongguk scooped them onto his lap. 

"We all agree or we don't do it," he said. Six serious nods. Sleepy stood a respectful distance off. 

Yongguk began opening the answers, laying them out for all to see. 

One.

Two.

Three.

No one spoke as he continued, pausing just a breath before turning out the final vote.

The room was so silent Yongguk would swear he could hear all six heartbeats, hammering in time.

"Okay," Junhong said at last. "So...what happens next?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue to go; stick around <3


	16. Chapter 16

Jongup woke to the sun falling across his face. He grimaced and rolled out of the line of burning hellfire, only to find the bed was empty beside him. He pushed himself up, still blinking spots away, and frowned, then checked the time. It was still early enough he should have company right now. 

He rolled out of bed and flexed his leg, pleased when his knee didn't give so much as a twinge. He couldn't afford to slow down for it today. 

He tugged on a pair of sweatpants in case Yongguk was still around, and left the bedroom. Himchan's former room was open, and Jongup peeked in as he passed. It was unoccupied save for the usual pile of Tiggers. The hyungs had switched rooms a few months back as Yongguk's hours grew ever busier and more erratic. The windowless closet let him sleep easily in the middle of the day, which was often the only time he could find to rest. Besides, he'd reasoned, he'd be leaving soon anyway--and there was only one of him, anyway. 

Jongup padded into the living room. Himchan had the laptop out on the coffee table next to a cup of coffee and neat sheafs of sheet music. He was still in a loose tank top--one of Jongup's, by the look of it--and a billowy pair of pajama pants. His hair was in disarray.

Jongup climbed easily over the back of the couch to wrap around the other man. Himchan turned halfway, and Jongup could see him smile, and that he had his glasses on. 

"Good morning."

"You left without waking me up," Jongup complained. He slid Himchan's shirt aside and pressed his lips to one of the coin-shaped scars on his shoulder. 

"It was early. You need sleep; it's a big day."

Jongup hummed and rested his chin on Himchan's shoulder. "What are you working on?"

"Set lists and practice schedules, mostly." He tapped at the laptop a few times.

"I don't know how you keep track of all this stuff."

"Hey, I'm not just a pretty face. I have an _enormous_...brain."

Jongup snorted and wrestled Himchan onto his back, stretching out on top of him. Himchan pushed his hair out of his face, smiling up at him. 

"How's the knee today?"

"Good. Your mom was right about Dr. Shin; she really is better."

"That'll make her happy. Being right's pretty much her favorite thing. Look, are you sure you don't mind--?"

Jongup captured Himchan's hand and bit his index finger gently. "I already told you, I want to. It'll be fine."

Himchan just nodded. "You nervous?"

"Nah. It's just a comeback."

Himchan snorted. " _It's just a comeback_ ," he repeated. Jongup laughed too.

"Why, are _you_ nervous?"

"It's just a comeback." He checked his watch. "How much time do you have?"

"Mmm." Jongup let his lips brush against Himchan's. "Long enough for some...coffee..."

The other man smiled beneath him and Jongup pressed in for a taste.

*

Youngjae awoke to the sensation that something very annoying was happening. 

Sure enough, when he cracked an eye open, he found Daehyun sitting across his legs, bouncing slightly, and Junhong holding a cup of coffee in front of his face, wafting the steam toward him.

"Oh no, did we wake you?" Daehyun asked innocently. Youngjae did his best to roll over, away from the maknae and toward the sweet comfort of the wall. The wall was his friend. The wall so rarely woke him up only minutes after he'd finally drifted off to sleep. 

But Daehyun was heavy as well as irritating, and Youngjae's trapped legs prevented his escape.

"Why is this happening," he grumbled.

"Iiiiiiiit's _COMEBACK DAY_!" his (former) best friend bellowed. 

" _Yaahhhhhh!"_ Junhong agreed, though at a slightly more reasonable volume. Youngjae squinted at him. 

"Why do you encourage him?"

Junhong just shrugged. His smile was huge and damn it, Youngjae couldn't stay mad. He reached out and pinched his cheek. 

"Yah, hyung."

"Did you hear me?" Daehyun asked. Youngjae managed to pull his legs free enough to sit up, and he took the cup of coffee from Junhong, who then joined him in bed, slinging an arm around his shoulder. 

"Did I _hear_ \--Dae. The neighbors heard you. By which I mean the neighboring _countries._ And possibly solar systems." Dammit, his voice was scratchy. He'd have to switch to honey tea after his coffee. 

"It's a big day," Daehyun said, unabashed. He folded his legs to sit cross-legged and his expression turned somber. "What if it blows up in our faces?"

The coffee was very good. Junhong had been taking lessons from Himchan. Youngjae took a second to send some gratitude his hyung's way. "It won't."

"What if no one comes?"

"They will."

"What if--"

"Aish, stop!" Youngjae said, kicking him. "Remember how ten seconds ago you were excited?"

His friend brightened. "Oh, yeah! _It's COMEBACK DAYYYYYY!"_ he screeched.

"Why do you encourage him?" Junhong asked.

*

Yongguk's phone rang.

" _Bbang, you'd better not be where I think you are."_

"Hey, hyung."

" _Our sound team's good, okay? They'll set everything up the way you want."_

Yongguk cast a slightly guilty look at the crew setting up equipment backstage. It wasn't that Yongguk didn't trust them to do their jobs; of course he did. But this show wasn't going to be like any the group had done before. He fancied it wasn't going to be much like a show _anyone_ had done before, or at least, not with such a bare-bones crew to pull it off. 

"I'm just dropping off the instruments is all," he told Sleepy. The green room was so stuffed with drums and racks of stage costumes there would hardly be room for the group when they arrived later. 

" _You sleep last night?"_

"Of course!" He tried to sound affronted, though it was a reasonable question. He'd had more than a few sleepless nights in the past three months. 

But last night Himchan had dragged him home by the elbow before it was even 11 o'clock. Then he and Jongup "kept him company" (read: watched him like a couple of jail wardens) while he ate a late meal. Then he'd been pushed into bed and Jongup had staged an impromptu intervention with some of the Tiggers who were, apparently, concerned about Yongguk's sleep habits. This left him and Himchan in a tangled giggly mess on his bed. 

"Jonguppie and Channie made me go to bed early," he explained. 

" _Good."_ Sleepy sounded very satisfied. " _Run-through's not for a few hours, Bbang. Go eat some breakfast."_

There came a clatter and a shout from a way's downstage. Yongguk turned to see a speaker toppling over amid the harried-looking crew.

Breakfast. Right.

*

Normal comeback days were scheduled to the second. They involved vans from TS picking up the members at the dorm, carting them to the venue for rehearsals, the makeup and coordi noonas descending to work their magic, food brought directly to the group. Maybe a session on V app just before the show. 

Today was not a normal comeback.

For one, there was no more dorm. Daehyun would drive Youngjae and Junhong from their new apartment over to the venue. Yongguk would help oversee setup. They would all be there for rehearsal and then scatter. There was so much to do, and away from TS Entertainment, they had to do much of it themselves. 

Jongup's job took him out of the city. He enjoyed the novelty of riding the subway alone. The day still felt momentous, but grounded in reality in a way previous comebacks never had. They'd always been so orchestrated, everything arranged slightly over Jongup's head. This time he knew exactly what was happening on every level. It was a lot to keep track of, but he liked it. He liked feeling less like a celebrity and more like an essential worker.

From the subway station, he hopped a bus to make the rest of the journey. The day was warm, but the worst of the summer heat had finally fled, and he enjoyed the feeling of sun on his bare arms. 

The Kims' house looked lovely with pink and white mugunghwa spilling out of the garden. 

 _It took losing use of my legs to find my green thumb_ , Mrs. Kim had confided in Jongup one night. 

He knocked on the door. He didn't have long to wait. 

"Jongup-ah!" Himchan's mother greeted him. She wheeled herself back from the door so he could get by. "In, in."

"How are you, Ajumma?"

She waved a hand dismissively. "Ah, my children are grown, my youth is gone..." Jongup laughed and she gave him a wink. "And you, Jongup-ah? I hope you're well-rested?"

"Yes ma'am." He wasn't supposed to call her that anymore; she'd insisted he not be so formal with her now, but she let it go. She'd tried so hard to put him at ease that sometimes Jongup thought guiltily that the two of them had a simpler relationship than she did with her own son. Himchan had done his best to forgive, but Jongup didn't think he'd ever truly forget.

"It was kind of you to come; I hate to be a burden," Mrs. Kim said, frowning. 

"You're not," Jongup said immediately. "And I'm happy to. Himchan would have, but--"

"Yes, I know; he has other things to do. It's quite a risk you're all taking."

Jongup considered this. "I think having musicians onstage with us will make things more memorable."

She peered over the top of her glasses at him. "They aren't professionals," she said. 

"They are now," Jongup said. 

It had lent their rehearsal an extra burst of energy that morning, having Himchan's students there. The four drummers had been giddy with nerves and excitement, but still snapped to attention whenever Himchan spoke. Jongup didn't think he'd ever tire of seeing his boyfriend in teacher mode. 

It had been part of the deal. After Himchan and Jongup originally voted "no" that night eight months ago, an uproar broke out. Himchan had been unwilling to break his commitment to the orchestra and his students, especially after Mina had been so kind in supporting him. And Jongup knew he couldn't stand to push him to come back when the idea scared him so badly.

Of course, the others couldn't let that stand.

There had been arguments and negotiations for hours until they reached a deal everyone could live with. Himchan would continue his work with the orchestra. He would help compose the group's debut album for Sleepy's company, but he would only perform on a few of the tracks. 

The second vote, taken as the sun was just beginning to light the sky, was a unanimous _yes_.

In the end, most of the songs on the album contained only a fraction of the group, with just two including all six. But behind the scenes, it had been the most collaborative album yet. Jongup held close the memories of the nights he and Himchan had spent writing one of the tracks together. It was Jongup's solo, but the song belonged equally to both of them.

Himchan would be joining his students on janggu for two songs in the concert. Jongup couldn't wait for the fans to see what he could do. When Himchan played, the drum seemed like a natural extension of his body, and he lost himself in the music the way he never quite seemed to singing or dancing. They had begun to plan for a future stage that would be just the two of them, Himchan on janggu while Jongup danced. 

There was so much to look forward to.

"I suppose you're right," Mrs. Kim said now. "I hope my son hasn't been stretching himself too thin."

"I hate to tell you but he's almost as bad as Yongguk hyung," Jongup admitted, and she pursed her lips.

"What are we going to do with him?" she wondered.

Before the dancer could respond, there was an energetic pounding at the door. Himchan's mother shook her head. 

"I'll get my things," she said, wheeling out of the hallway. Jongup got the door.

"M-o-o-n; that spells Jongup!" Kyung announced happily, if incorrectly. 

"Hi hyung." Jongup let the older man pound him on the back a few times before breaking the embrace. Kyung held him by both shoulders and looked deeply into his eyes. 

"Moon. _Please_ tell me this concert is going to involve our Channie-Sarge gazing soulfully into the distance."

"You'll just have to wait and see." Jongup tried not to laugh at the hopeful look on Kyung's face. 

"Will there at least be twirling?"

"I forget."

"Gyrating? Pelvic thrusts?"

"Himchan said if you got too excited I was allowed to uninvite you."

"Ah, but you never would. You know why?" Kyung said. He threw an arm across Jongup's shoulders. "Because you and I? We have a bond. A bond of brotherhood that transcends any casual little life partnership you and Chandog have going on."

This comment seemed safe to ignore, so Jongup did. "Was the van a problem at all?"

Kyung released him. "You kidding? I'm never driving anything else. Everyone else on the road gets outta the way when you're in one of these things."

"Why do I imagine that has more to do with your driving than with your vehicle?" Mrs. Kim asked drily, rolling herself back in. 

"Ajumma!" Kyung greeted her delightedly with an exaggerated bow. "May I just say you look absolutely smashing, really lovely."

"You may," she said regally. She sounded very like Himchan in that moment and Jongup grinned. 

The three made their way out front to the wheelchair van Kyung had driven over. 

"What a lucky woman to have two handsome escorts," Himchan's mother said. 

"More like one and a half, Ajumma. I'm unconventional," Kyung said. "And our KimHim wouldn't have it any other way."

*

 "I didn't know I'd have to wear makeup." Hyunjoo looked nervous. 

"You'll be fine. Trust me; you'd stand out more without it," Himchan assured him. His student nodded several times. 

"Okay." They dodged a pair of techs holding some sound equipment aloft. Backstage was chaos, even with less than half the staff B.A.P was used to. Himchan was somewhat surprised to find that he liked it. He'd missed the energy and adrenaline coursing through him. The theater was beginning to fill, the familiar rumblings of the crowd permeating the entire building. 

"C'mon." Himchan steered Hyunjoo to the green room and one of the makeup noonas waved them over. She was just finishing Seulki, who looked meaner than ever with the heavy eyeliner. Himchan raised his eyebrows at her in the mirror.

"All good?"

She gave a thumbs up and he saw her hand was shaking slightly. He patted her shoulder. 

"You guys'll do great. Remember your cues. If you get lost, just look at me, okay?" They nodded. "Good. I'll find you before it's time to go on. Gyeongja noona will take care of you for now." The makeup noona nodded, smiling at Hyunjoo, who relaxed a bit. Himchan checked in on his sogo players in the makeshift makeup chairs in the hall, then pressed through the crowd to the second green room. 

Yongguk was in the chair, sitting still for the first time all day. He waved at Himchan when he caught sight of him in the mirror.

"You okay?" they asked each other in unison as Himchan joined him, then laughed, Yongguk doing his best not to move his face too much while his makeup was being applied.

"Just like old times," Himchan said. "...kind of."

Junhong and Daehyun were on the couch, makeup done, talking into Dae's phone. Youngjae was in the other chair having his hair done. 

"Is Jonguppie back yet?" Himchan asked. Yongguk arched an eyebrow pointedly and Himchan followed his gaze to find his boyfriend just entering the room behind them. Himchan squeezed Yongguk's shoulder and went to join him. 

"How'd it go?" he asked. Jongup brightened at the sight of him, then bowed slightly as his first stage outfit was pressed into his hands. 

"C'mon," he muttered, motioning for Himchan to follow. They slipped into one of the bathrooms and Himchan locked the door behind them. Jongup hung his clothes on the hook on the back of the door and pressed Himchan against the wall. He tasted of the tea he always drank before a performance. Himchan had forgotten. 

"It was fine," he said, pulling back. 

"Kyung wasn't too...Kyung?"

"No more than usual. Mina met us outside; the rest of the orchestra is here."

Himchan felt a fresh surge of nerves at the thought of performing in front of all the students. He'd had a chance to get to know many of them in the past year, even those he didn't personally tutor. Their excitement over this comeback rivaled his own, and he was touched by it. 

"Oh God. I mean, oh good."

Jongup smiled and nudged his nose gently with his own. "It'll be great. Your mom's so excited. Hana's picking your dad up from the airport and coming straight here."

Himchan nodded, pleased as ever to hear Jongup so on top of the Kim family affairs. It had been a long time coming, but finally most of the old tensions had drained away. Himchan knew a lot of it was his mother's efforts, but he thought most of it had to be Jongup--he was simply impossible not to love. 

"Your hyungs?" he asked. Jongup shrugged. 

"Around here somewhere."

"Hmm." Himchan knew they were both due back to get their makeup done--Jongup hadn't even had his hair done yet--but he wanted this moment. They deserved this moment. He kissed the younger man one more time, slow and deep. Jongup's hands caged his hips, pulling him against him. 

Someone banged on the door. 

"Yah, Jongup-ah, if you're in there, you're up!" Youngjae's voice was only slightly muffled. They pulled apart with some regret. 

"I'm changing, out in a minute," Jongup called. 

"Fine. If you _happen_ to see Himchan hyung anywhere, the makeup noonas are looking for him, too," Youngjae added pointedly. 

Jongup grinned. "The makeup noonas are looking for you," he informed his boyfriend. 

"You'd better get dressed, then." Himchan reached for Jongup's clothes, but Jongup stayed his hand. 

"Himchannie." The dancer's face turned serious, his eyes searching. Himchan cupped his cheek, running his thumb along the corner of his lips, feeling the younger man's breath catch for just a beat. It would be so easy to forget how close they had come to this moment never happening. 

"Ribbit," Himchan said. 

*

They'd played to larger crowds, but they could still feel this one through the soles of their feet.

The crew left the group alone backstage. They could hardly see each other in the dim flickering lights, could hardly hear each other over the pulsing beat of the intro music's bass. 

Junhong was bouncing on the balls of his feet behind Yongguk, hands on his shoulders. Youngjae was doing his usual series of stretches while Daehyun blew air out through his lips nervously. Himchan had his arm around Jongup. His eyes met Yongguk's, bright somehow even in the dark. 

The beat dropped. 

Yongguk put out his hand and one by one, the others placed theirs on top. Six hands: a complete set. The leader was never one for speeches and they couldn't have heard him right now if he was. He met each of their eyes in turn: his brothers. His family. They'd be here, whole and safe, when he got back.

But that was a thought for later. This was now. They shouted _FIGHTING_! in one voice. 

Then, following their cue, the six men took to the stage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was long-winded enough, so I'll (try to) be brief:
> 
> Thank you so so much for reading. I hope you had fun; I know I did. Thank you to everyone who left kudos and/or feedback. It meant more to me than I can express. <3
> 
> I started When it Hits You on January 1st, 2016, never expecting all that much. But apparently I have a hard time letting go, and here we are. BAP OT6 and Himup forever, okay? (omg i love them so much)
> 
> Great thanks to the talented Kiki for beautiful fan art, both about this series and in general. (Grumble; can't get the links to work, here we go: https://art-of-wthyd-kiki.tumblr.com/post/150970737136/wthyd-kiki-moonyeyedwalrus-my-dearest)
> 
> Special thanks to my friend Rai for cheerleading and the endless sharing of Himup headcanons. <3
> 
> And endless undying thanks to my dear Tilde aka Chngminxo for being my inspiration and sounding board. Your feedback has kept me going when I've wanted to scrap this whole thing. You're a huge talent and a true friend and I love you.
> 
> "M-o-o-n; that spells Jongup" is a shameless reference to Stephen King's The Stand, because, fun fact: that's Kyung's favorite book in translation.
> 
> I'll stop talking now i love you i love BAP i love Himup let's go Yongguk comeback ahhhauhfwiehiew


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